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#on that note. can i share the absolute joy i felt last night
todayisafridaynight · 5 months
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still thinking about how my friend said my dad looked like a yakuza last night like 😭😭 ??
#snap chats#i was showing her a pic i took of him when i saw him last month and she was just like#'oh he looks like a yakuza guy' HUH ??? like he is as tall as a typical rgg chara and ik i joke bout my dad lookin like daigo--#NO BUT THEN I SHOW HER A PIC /OF/ DAIGO AND SHES LIKE 'i dont see it' ?????????? LIKE SURE MY DADS BALD BUT#THAT THE CLOSEST COMPARISON you mkae no sense girl#its so funny she thinks my life revolves around yakuza And It Does but its so funny when she tries to equate stuff to it#like that event i went to last night was an ornament painting one and she was like#'oh why dont you make a yakuza ornament :) like uhhh arakawa and uhhhh that other guy'#FIRST OFF SHE STILL DOESNT REMEMBER SAWASHRIOVELKRVEJ BUT ALSO WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN#i mean lowkey in retrospect i could have made an arakawa family ornament but not the point#the point is my life isnt JUST YAKUZA KAYLA SHUT UP ????? LOL#i appreciate it tho. shes trying. /would be great if we finished y7 one day/#on that note. can i share the absolute joy i felt last night#like i said her favorite streamer's name is joe but we were hanging with a friend who didnt know about This Joe Guy#and so when my friend started talking about him the other friend was earnestly just 'who's joe'#and i have never felt such joy in saying 'joe mama' I HAD BEEN WAITING MY ENTIRE LIFE FOR THAT MOMENT#ITS LIKE WHEN I GOT UPDOG TO WORK ON MY OLD FRIEND LIKE PLEAAASE I DONT CARE IF ITS A DUMB JOKE#IM DUMB AND I LOVE DUMB JOKES i was so happy. the purest joy i felt ever#ok bye i guess i should get ready for class
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karajaynetoday · 2 months
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nothing's going right, and everything's a mess, and no one likes to be alone | jack hughes
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author's note: don't ask me how the university semester timeline in this works. i have simply given reader a three week break in march bc why not. this is fanfiction okay, anything can happen 😂 no one proofread this for me so soz for any typos!
word count: 3.4k words
warnings: none that i can think of? but lmk if i've missed anything. soz if the ending makes you mad LOL i do love a cliffhanger
read part one here
read part two here
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here
Somehow, the ill feeling of waiting until summer to see Jack again began to fade with each passing day. The itch to text him every time something exciting or infuriating happened to you began to lessen. The thoughts of him when you saw a funny meme he’d like, or your shared favourite foods on special at the grocery store, quietly stopped happening as frequently. 
But then there were the things that didn’t stop. The sharp pain in your chest whenever Jack’s smiling face popped up on your social media feed. The butterflies in your stomach whenever your parents brought him up in conversation, fuelled by whatever the latest updates were from their group message thread with Jim and Ellen. The joy that would wash over you when you heard about a Devils win or a Jack Hughes goal, followed almost always by a wave of sadness that you were hearing about it second or third hand, rather than from Jack himself.
You were the one who’d asked for space. You needed time, you’d said. Given the blow up of All-Star weekend, all Jack was doing was respecting your wishes; but a huge part of you not so secretly wished he’d be a bit more disrespectful and reach out. Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, and your heart wasn’t sure which emotion to feel or where to go next. 
Since kindergarten, you’d barely gone more than a few days without seeing or communicating with Jack in some way. Now you were nearly a month without a word, and even though you were still mad at how he’d treated you, you were craving a return to the friendship you’d become so accustomed to. Jack knew you better than anyone, could basically read your mind with a single look, and although you had plenty of friends at college and still around in Toronto from high school, none came close to the camaraderie you shared with Jack. He was someone you could talk to for hours, or sit next to in silence for the same amount of time, it didn’t matter. With Jack, you could be utterly and entirely yourself, no complications. Now it felt like you were always pretending. And it was exhausting.
It was about 9pm on a Thursday night when you found yourself pushing through that exhaustion to try and complete yet another university assignment. For motherfucking economics. You couldn’t wait until you’d completed all of your compulsory economics credits because it was the absolute opposite of your cup of tea, when it came to academic subjects. This assignment was your last one, and you weren’t sure whether to cheer or cry at the idea of hitting the submit button on the online portal. Maybe you should’ve bought a confetti cannon to celebrate. Or a box of wine. Or booked yourself a flight somewhere fun, given you had a break from classes soon.
As soon as the thought of a trip crossed your mind, your phone began to buzz with an incoming video call. A video call from… Luke. Luke Hughes. 
Your face scrunched in confusion, as you swiped to answer the call, met with Luke’s smiling face and messy curls. 
“Hey sunshine! Long time no see. How have you been?” Luke spoke cheerily. Almost too cheerily. 
You were immediately suspicious and narrowed your eyes at the youngest Hughes. 
Luke was 3 years old when you met for the first time; he could barely remember a life without you in it. Given how inseparable you and Jack were, Luke became your de facto little brother, always tagging along where he could and joining in your adventures. Later on, when he became a teenager, you were the one Luke would come to when he was having issues with his friends, or trying to build up the courage to ask out the cute girl in his math class, or missing his brothers when they moved away. You were his second call after Ellen when he felt homesick at Michigan, and you were his first call when he had fucked up something that he felt his brothers would never let him live down. Emotional support and damage control, with a healthy dose of teasing and laughs thrown in. That was the dynamic between you and Luke. It also meant you could read him to filth when he was lying to you, and your honesty radar was through the roof at this sudden video call.
“I’m fine, Moose. Just trying to wrap up my final assignment before the break without losing my entire mind.” You offered weakly, half-expecting Luke to make a joke about your mind having been lost years ago, but the joke never came.
Instead, you saw the concern flicker across Luke’s face, just for a moment, before he forced a smile.
“How long is your break for? Any plans?”
“Three weeks, and not really. I promised my mother I’d spend a few days helping her with planning for their anniversary party in June, but that probably won’t happen until right before I go back to school.” You chatted absently, hitting save on your essay and standing up from the couch, bringing your phone with you as you moved into the kitchen to make yourself a drink.
You propped the phone up against the vase on your kitchen bench, reaching up into the cabinet to retrieve a glass. 
“Well, you should come visit. We’ve got like 5 home games in a row or something ridiculous coming up. It’d be fun!” Luke’s tone was cheerful, but cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to react. 
You hummed in response, moving slightly out of view of your phone to get some ice cubes from your freezer and a soda from the fridge. 
“Besides, I heard a rumour that you’ve got an airline voucher to use. I’d hate for it to expire or something.” 
You could feel your heart starting to beat faster. Luke knew about the voucher. Did that mean Jack had told him about your fight? 
“The voucher won’t expire for three years. I’m sure I’ll manage to use it before then.” You deadpanned, stepping back into frame to see Luke rolling his eyes at you. 
“Yeah, sure, but will I survive that long without seeing you? Absolutely not. Come on, sugar. Please? Even if it’s just a weekend?” Luke had moved into full begging mode, with puppy dog eyes and everything.
You sighed, fidgeting with the straw in your drink and avoiding his gaze. 
“I don’t… we haven’t talked at all, Luke. I don’t know what he’ll do if I just show up there.” You half-whispered, feeling that all-too-familiar wave of sadness coursing through your veins. 
“He talked about you tonight at dinner. Says he misses you. But he doesn’t want to push, or not give you the space you wanted. But right now, he’s on the couch watching Gossip Girl, so…” Luke stated matter-of-factly, staring you down with a knowing look on your face.
Gossip Girl was something you’d insisted Jack get into when you were teenagers, as long as he “wanted to be called your official best friend”. And The OC. And Gilmore Girls. And One Tree Hill. And basically any other teen drama series you could think of. Collectively, those shows had thousands of episodes, and you always found yourself settling down to watch them whenever you were missing Jack more than usual. You’d never realised before that he did the same.
“Should… should we tell him I’m coming? I don’t want him to get upset by a bad surprise.” 
“Not at all, sugar. Book the flight and send me the details, I’ll sort out the rest.” Luke’s beaming smile made a smile of your own creep onto your face, as you nodded at him and went to retrieve your laptop from the couch to log onto the airline website.
“Now that that’s sorted, I was wondering, what does it mean when a girl asks me what my sun, moon and rising are? Should I be worried? Or is it a good thing?”
– 
Two days later, you were done with your semester and on your way to the airport. Luke had suggested you book a one-way flight, “That way, you can go home whenever you like!”, but you were starting to feel like the whole thing was a mistake. 
Nonetheless, you pushed through those feelings and boarded your flight. The whole ordeal took less than two hours, and soon enough you found yourself navigating the arrivals area at Newark airport. You spotted Luke’s lanky figure, clad in a Michigan sweatshirt, with his back to you. You couldn’t help but creep up on him and poke his side, cracking up with laughter as Luke jumped at least three feet into the air. He’d always been the easiest to scare, ever since you were kids. 
Luke cussed you out, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 
“Missed your face, sugarplum.” Luke murmured, as you pulled away from each other and he rested his hands on your shoulders, studying you. 
“Aw, Lukey. I’d say I’d missed yours too, but we really gotta do something about that hair.” You poked your tongue out as the youngest Hughes brother’s jaw dropped in mock offense. 
You retrieved your bag from the luggage carousel, and headed out to where Luke had parked. The two of you fell into easy conversation as Luke navigated through the New Jersey streets back to the apartment he shared with Jack. 
You managed to bury most of the nerves, but they came bubbling back to the surface when Luke pulled into the parking garage at the bottom of his building.
“Is… um… Is Jack home? Alone?” You managed to squeak out, and Luke looked at you like you were crazy. 
Ever since All-Star weekend, you’d been having a recurring nightmare about Jack and the girl from the messages you’d accidentally become privy to. In particular, it was a scenario where you would come home from wherever you’d been out, and opened the apartment door to find them… entangled, on every possible surface you could think of. You felt yourself starting to feel ill as the images from your nightmares started to flash back into your mind. 
“He’s alone. Ever since… ever since he came home early from All-Star, he’s been alone. None of the… usual visitors have been over. And he hasn’t been going to theirs, either. Not even when we’re on a roadie.” Luke said carefully, and you could tell he was trying not to upset you.
You could also tell that he was being honest. Because you could always tell when he was lying. But your mind was running a million miles a minute. Jack hadn’t… for a month? Because of his fight with you? You loved Jack, but you also knew (despite wishing that you didn’t know at all) that it had been years since he’d gone that long without intimacy. In fact, it was probably the longest since losing his virginity that Jack hadn’t fulfilled his desires. 
Your mind was starting to wander into the gutter, and you pressed your eyes closed to bring yourself back to Earth. All you could do was nod at Luke, before you both hopped out of the car and into the elevator. Luke insisted on carrying your luggage, so you found yourself fidgeting incessantly with your hands as the elevator climbed to the correct floor. 
You trailed behind Luke as he strode towards the apartment door and unlocked it, stepping inside and putting your bag down. He looked back and waved you into the apartment, pressing a finger to his lips. You tiptoed across the doorway, and your heart softened at the scene before you. 
You could see the back of Jack’s head leaned up against the couch, and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing on the TV mounted on the wall. In fact, it was one of your favourite episodes; where Jess comes back and shows Rory the book he wrote, and calls her out for dropping out of Yale. You smiled ruefully as you thought about the parallels between that episode and your current situation with Jack, as the argument between Jess and Rory played out on the screen.  
What do you mean?
You know what I mean! I know you. I know you better than anyone! This isn't you!
… 
This isn't you! This! You going out with this jerk, with the Porsche! We made fun of guys like this!
You caught him on a bad night.
This isn't about him! Okay? Screw him! What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?
I don't know. I don't know…
“Are we Team Jess or Team Rory this time, Jacky?” Luke called out, making you jump. 
“Team Jess all the way, obviously. Where have you bee-” Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his brother, and instead saw you in the middle of his living room.
Jack’s face was a revelation. Confusion, at first. Then the briefest flash of hurt and anguish. Then a smile. Then caution and uncertainty, as he slowly stepped towards you. 
You let a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and quickly moved across the room, clumsily throwing your arms around your best friend. You felt Jack freeze momentarily, almost as if he was shocked at your touch, but that soon passed and you felt his hands slide around your waist and squeeze, bringing your bodies as close together as possible. 
You nestled your head on Jack’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. His thumbs softly rubbed up and down your side, and you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair. You stayed like that for a minute, or maybe longer, relaxing into the embrace.
The sound of the apartment door slamming shut made you jolt, and you rolled your eyes as you realised that Luke had tried to sneak way unnoticed and failed miserably. 
“Hi.” Jack whispered, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands locked around you. 
“Hi.” You whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. 
“Is it still shit hair? Or better now it’s longer?” Jack teased, rolling his tongue between his teeth.
“Better. But only slightly.” You teased back, your hands slipping down to the back of his neck comfortably. 
The warmth of the surprise arrival was starting to fade. The dread you’d felt over addressing your fight with Jack was starting to set in, fast. The guilt you felt for being the catalyst for over a month for not speaking to your best friend was washing over you. Your heart rate was through the roof, and your palms were beginning to sweat. 
Jack sensed your change in mood, and pulled away from you to look you up and down.
“Are you hungry? Do you want to shower? Or take a nap?” He was nervous, too.
“I ate before my flight. And showered this morning. And it’s 11am, so I think I’m good on the nap front. But I do think we should… we should talk. About everything.” You were basically tripping over your words at this point, but Jack’s reassuring nod helped to calm your nerves. 
Wordlessly, Jack took your hand and led you over to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. You sat down and faced him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, still fidgeting with your hoodie sleeves. 
“I’m sorry - “ You both said unanimously, a gentle laughter filling the room. 
“I’m sorry I needed so much time apart, J. It fucking sucked, and it was my fault, and I just didn’t -” You began to ramble, only stopping when Jack leaned over and squeezed your knee reassuringly.
“You only needed that time because I was an asshole, sugar. It’s on me, really. I had no right to treat you like an occasional friend, or something that I shouldn’t prioritise -” Jack paused as you cringed, remembering the text messages that referred to his time with you as “boring family bullshit”. 
“I was thinking with my dick, not with my head, and that’s not fair on anyone.” You shot Jack a weird look, and he looked sheepish in return.
“Quinn… Quinn said that to me. After you told him to tell me about the messages. He’s right, thought. It wasn’t fair.” Jack continued, pausing to take a deep breath. 
“This whole… thing, this life -” Jack gestured broadly at the apartment around you, and you glanced around properly for the first time. Framed jerseys of Luke and Jack’s adorned the walls.Various photos of the Hughes family scattered about the place. The fridge, with a gas bill stuck to it, along with a polaroid of you and Jack from last Christmas. And a photo from your senior prom. And a group photo of everyone from last summer at the lake house, Jack’s mouth open in laughter with his arm slung over your bikini-clad shoulders. 
“It’s all I thought I ever wanted. And it’s amazing, and I’m so grateful. But it’s worth nothing to me, the money, the girls -” You felt yourself involuntarily cringe again. “The fame, the accolades, it’s worth nothing to me without the people that I love by my side. And if those people don’t know how much I love and appreciate them, because I treat them like shit, then that’s on me. No one else. Me.” 
You sat quietly, taking in Jack’s emphatic statement. You weren’t quite sure what to say. So instead, you gently reached over and took Jack’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing softly, for a moment while you gathered your thoughts.
“I know the life you live, Jack. You don’t have to be sorry for it. Playing hockey was all you ever dreamed of, and I honestly can’t blame you for… enjoying… all the perks it comes with.” You swallowed the wave of nausea that hit you, before continuing. 
“I don’t… I don’t know what life looks like without you in it. The last month was such a bizarre experience, and not one that I ever want to repeat, but I also… I need to… Can I be honest?” You spoke softly, glancing up from your hands to meet Jack’s gaze, and he nodded encouragingly at you. 
“I wasn’t just upset because you made me feel like I was inconveniencing you, or cock-blocking you -” It was Jack’s turn to cringe. “I think I was upset because I was jealous. Because that will never, ever be me. And I think… I think I want it to be? Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know!” You dropped Jack’s hand and stood up from the couch, and started to pace the room. 
“Sugar, please sit down.” Jack pleaded, and you paused, looking back at him on the couch. One look was all you needed, and you narrowed your eyes at the smirk on his dumb face. 
“Why are you smirking? I am experiencing emotional distress, you asshole.” You seethed, running your hands through your hair in frustration.
“Tell me more about this jealousy thing. I’m intrigued.” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, and washed over you like sour milk. Your head whipped in his direction and your face must’ve said a thousand words, because Jack’s smirk soon disappeared and he hurriedly stood up and walked over, reaching out to touch you. 
“See, this -” You jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest. “This is why I have avoided this conversation for almost my entire life. Because you think it’s hilarious that we could ever go down that path. That we could ever be something more than what we are. Because I’m not good enough,or pretty enough, or just enough and I never will be, and I hate it. I hate it so much.” Your voice cracked on the last few words, and you felt the hot tears start to bubble out of your eyes and stream down your face. 
Jack didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He pulled you into a hug, bringing his hand up to your face and gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs. 
“Breathe, sugar. You need to calm down.” Jack said quietly, willing you to calm. That just made you cry harder. 
You were about to pull away, when you felt Jack cup your face with both hands, before leaning in to kiss you. 
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peachsayshi · 1 year
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ EX-BOYFRIEND HCS (feat. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso) 
minors / ageless / blank blogs dni
ˋ°•*⁀➷  tags: angsty, mentions of break ups, mentions of make ups, mentions of commitment issues, I’m keeping all of this kind of vague.  
ˋ°•*⁀➷  notes: decided to finally edit up this post that I wrote xo I hope you enjoy it! feedback/reblogs are always appreciated <3 
wc: 1,204
gojo:
he understood why you ended things with him. he’s not an easy man to love, he doesn’t exist in a world where a life can simply be built. he didn’t fight you on your decision or beg you to change your mind. there is nothing he can offer in return which is why he conceded in letting you go, even though the choice destroyed him beyond comprehension. this is the first time he’s ever felt truly broken and he chooses not to cross paths with you for the sake of his own wellbeing. 
but still, he can never fully erase you from his life. you were his pretty light, the spark of happiness that brought him profound joy. he can’t help but succumb to an opportunity of sneaking back in, even in the smallest of ways. besides, the break up didn’t end with fighting or hateful words, it was amicable - so, why can’t he show any signs of fondness? 
these excuses come with every birthday, holiday or special occasion. you always receive a thoughtful gift wrapped up in a pretty bow. gojo never includes a card, but the way your heart seizes up tells you that it is from him. it lingers in your mind that he still thinks about you, even though you are trying to move on. your heart fights you on every decision you make. you would meet bachelors who would exude perfection but they don’t even come close to the man you once loved. satoru gojo may no longer hold space in your life, but the painful reality is that there’s a void inside you that only he can fill. 
geto: 
the man who stole your heart - there’s an ache in the place where the muscle once resided. he snatched it away without even knowing, and disappeared into the shadows. you don’t hear from him at all, not even a single text or a phone call. the silence is absolutely haunting - he doesn’t know the hurt is the reason why you hate him, but how its also a reminder of just how much you love him. he makes time stand still - and your world stops moving. 
suguru should know better - this way is easier (or so he thinks), he had his reasons (or so he thinks). he spends his days analyzing this decision - dissects it, pries it open and pokes at it in all angles. every conclusion leads to him acknowledging that you deserve far more than what he can give you. but still it becomes his obsession, his source of contention and irritation. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before, but why can’t he snip the last tether that’s tugging at his heart? 
it’s him showing up in the middle of the night, taking in the stunned expression on your face after months of zero contact. he holds you with so much care when he apologizes, begs you to take him back as he whispers sweet words in your ear. you’re not proud of the way you melt right into arms, or how easily you invite him to your bed. you hate that you would let him break your heart a thousand times over, not knowing that he’'ll fight to his last breath just to mend it back together. 
nanami: 
messy is the only word to describe the break up. somehow it wasn’t even a one sided decision, but a point where neither of you were willing to carry on. the heartbreaking thing is that the two of you didn’t just end a relationship, you ended an entire life together. nanami never went into anything half-assed, and that included what he shared with you. now, he sits in his new apartment, most of his things still packed in boxes, and he can’t bring himself to settle down. you were the only home he’s ever grown to love and he can’t help but think what it was about this particular fight that defined the course of your relationship.
nanami was mature about the aftermath, but his removed behavior made you feel small, made you wonder if he was truly unaffected by the pain of separation. as you divide up your life you ponder if he’s reconsidering the entire decision as well. this whole blow up felt so stupid to you now, a minor blimp in the beautiful story of your love together. you knew he wasn’t good at expressing himself in the moment, but when he finally left the key to your place behind, everything came crashing down at once. 
you both have a hard time referring to each other as exes. you both still speak about one another with such tenderness. your loved ones pushed you both into seeking each other out, but neither of you were willing to disturb the other’s peace. you’ve both done enough damage, caused enough hurt that would last a lifetime. it’s only by chance that you stumble into him at a new coffee shop - like fate itself worked hard to ensure you swung the door open just as he stepped through the threshold, that your bodies collided at the right moment so you can see the missing half of your soul in each other’s eyes. 
choso: 
“can we at least be friends?” - how were you supposed to say no after you had just broken him. this man whose sweet heart radiated nothing but gold even though his eyes were full of sadness. he didn't ask you questions as to why you felt the need to end this, didn’t push your decision even though things were going relatively well. you were so thankful because the extent to which he loved you was petrifiying. you just needed to find yourself for a moment - to catch your breath, and ground your feet after floating on air. 
it’s hard to ignore that choso shared your body and heart. your friendship is so different, and you can’t help but feel like you were tiptoeing around a minefield. he looks at you with immense hope, and that optimism weakens your will. you don’t want to sell him any dreams unless you were sure yourself. so you try your best to keep things platonic - you make sure that you are never alone with him for too long, give other suitors a chance for casual flings, and even go as far as setting choso up on a date. 
you’ve somehow convinced yourself that this is good for you both, until choso asks “do you hate me?” - it hurts seeing him break before your eyes, listening to him question you if you’re doing all this because you don’t want him around you anymore. he tells you that it hurts and you don’t know how to justify any of your actions by using your fear as an excuse. he’s given you no reason to think he won’t cherish your love, and all you can think about is making him smile. waking up tangled between the sheet with him makes you feel sick. your heart races when his arm squeezes around your waist, when his lips brush softly against the back of your neck and you’re burrowing yourself deeper into this hole with no idea how to make it out safely. 
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madamevirgo · 1 month
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Here I am, Here I remain.
Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f)reader
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Spoilers!!, angst, fluff, Chani
A/N: So, I was absolutely not planning on writing a sequel to this, but some of you started asking, and my brain started working, and this came out at 3:30am. There will not be a third part to this, but this is of course not my last Lady Jessica work. Also, note that there are spoilers in this. I have seen Dune: Part 2, 5 times already so it's literally engraved in my brain and on my eyelids. I hope those who wanted a sequel to this little story of mine aren't disappointed. Big shoutout to the person who submitted the original request. If you haven't already, follow me on Twitter so we can be moots and talk about our faves :) Happy reading.
Part 1
After that night, there had been a noticeable shift in your relationship with The Reverend Mother. 
In public, you no longer walked five paces behind. It was more common to see you by her side or no more than a step behind, watching her back like a hawk. So much so so, that people had taken to calling you ‘The Shadow’ - the thought that people saw you as an extension of her, filled you with an indescribable amount of joy.
There was now a certain lightness to the Reverend Mother as if you were the missing piece to her complete acceptance of her new reality. She was quicker to laugh and seemed much more focused and involved in the fate of the Fremen. She had stopped talking to her belly so much as she turned to you, her confidante - sometimes you were more of a sounding board than anything, but you were more than happy to have her throw ideas at you if it helped her in any way. 
In private, things had also changed for the better. It was rare for there to be silence between you two, times in private were spent telling the other of life before each other; and in her case, how she was adapting to her new role and life. She told you of her parentage, she now knew the identity of at least one of her parents, and you had shared how Stilgar had raised you like his own daughter. You had developed a complicity that surpassed friendship, but you also weren’t sure how to describe this thing between you. ‘Friendship’ felt both like a gross oversimplification yet anything else carried an aura of delusion. The lingering looks, the gentle touches exchanged and the comfort that she provided, brought forth feelings that you hadn’t previously experienced. Every moment spent in her company seemed too short. 
It was because you had become so close emotionally, that it had been easy for you to notice oddities in her behaviour. She was more on edge, jumping at loud noises and snapping at the smallest thing. She also watched you as if you would disappear at any moment, which caused her to be clingy and on edge whenever you weren’t next to her. Pretty soon, you had concluded, that she had foreseen something. 
You had tried to broach the subject: “I see that something is troubling you, my lady.” you had whispered one day while you ate in the communal space. “Won’t you share the burden with me, so that you might breathe a little easier, at least?” she had frozen for a second, a change barely visible to untrained eyes, before relaxing.
“I cannot say.” she had said simply before continuing to eat. 
“You don’t deny that it is something?” you exclaimed silently. You had expected her to deny it. “Why won’t you tell me, it is clearly causing you to worry.” You were getting agitated now, and when you noticed some heads looking in your direction with veiled curiosity, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 
“I have been cursed with knowledge.” she started slowly, quietly - collecting her thoughts as she spoke. “I see many different outcomes for many different decisions, and hear the voices of all those before me whispering in my head. I always worry, sometimes a bit more than usual. I can handle it, what I will not stand for, however, is you asking for things I cannot give.” You flinched, as she continued her rampage. “I cannot share everything with you; because sharing them will not do anything other than put a burden on your shoulder, a burden that I must carry alone.” she finished 
“Bu-” you started
“Enough!” was the command that came out of her mouth. The sheer force of the order had your body recoiling and your mind spinning, forcing you into silence. 
It took you a few seconds before you could regain your senses. You looked around in confusion, before setting your eyes on her, and the shock of the realization caused your eyes to open and your chest to heave. She had used the voice on you. 
She had used the voice on you. 
The communal room had never been so silent. Not even during nighttime, as there were always Fremen patrolling around. Yet, right now it was so quiet that you could hear your heart beating in your ears as your body felt hot with embarrassment, shock and hurt. You sensed a movement in front of you, but before she could say or do anything else, you had stood up and left. Not looking back, and avoiding the eyes that followed you out of the communal space. 
—------------------
Stilgar and Chani were rarely, if ever on the same page. However, one thing that they could agree on, was that you were the best of them. You didn’t agree. Although you did try to control your anger, preferred to think before acting when possible and trusted until proven wrong, you could never escape the Fremen pride. 
The Reverend Mother, Jessica, had in just a second, taken away your free will and reduced you to a puppet. And she did it in front of your people. You were shaking with silent anger, your fists were clenched, and your nails were creating bloody half-moon cuts in your palms. Had it been any other weirding woman - had you been any other Fremen - you would have slit her throat. Instead, you walked away to calm yourself. 
Your steps guided you to your childhood home. You walked right in and slammed the door behind you, closed your eyes and leaned against it for support, before pushing forward with a harsh kick of your feet against the wooden entrance. 
“What did my door do to you?” You meant to go to your room and ruminate in peace, but the voice of your father had you enter the living room where he sat on a cushion he used for prayer and meditation. 
You stayed quiet as you paced up and down the living room, trying and failing to calm down. Never in your life had you been so angry. 
“First my door, now my floor. What is the matter with you?” you heard Stilgar ask, still you didn’t stop. It was only when he grabbed you by your shoulders that you stopped and let out a growl-like sigh. “Come, let’s sit and you can tell me what has angered you so,” he said as he led you to the couch.
You suddenly felt like a child again, like when you would have a nightmare or the other children would tease you to tears and you would run to him. He would sit you on his lap and hug you in his big arms and make everything better, everything would go away. 
Except now, you were an adult with grown-up feelings and responsibilities - and he couldn’t make this - whatever it was - go away. You still told him, about how you’d grown close to Lady Jessica and how she was worried about something, and how when you’d asked, out of concern, she’d used the voice on you. 
You expected him to get just as angry if not more than you, but he remained calm and thoughtful. 
Finally he said: “She said you were asking for things she couldn’t give?” he questioned. 
“Did you not hear the part where I said she used The Voice on me?” you asked in exasperation before getting up and resuming your pacing. 
“Do you know why I assigned you to her?’ he asked instead of answering your question.
“Because I’m your daughter and you trust me? Because I’m one of the best Fedaykin, because I’m a good diplomat? I don’t know father.” You snapped. He was angering you even more. 
“Yes, to all these.” He agreed as you sighed. “But, the real reason I assigned you to the Reverend Mother is because she needs a friend and you are the only person I know who wouldn’t be judgemental, or rude. You would give her a chance before anything else.” He explained as you stopped your pacing to listen to him. “The Bene Gesserit see more than we do, because of their training. A Reverend Mother sees even more. She is cursed with all the knowledge of the past and that of the future while seeing all the outcomes possible. It’s a big responsibility.” He said lost in thought. “It makes for a lonely life. One I have forced her to live. I guess it was only right that I gave her something to help her out.” he finished. 
“I can understand that, but that still doesn’t make up for her removing my free will like that,” You whisper as you sit next to him. 
“You have to understand that pushing her won’t do any good, and although you wish to help yoheru carry this load - you can’t. The only thing you can do is be there for her - by her side - and wait until she comes to you,” he said 
“When will that be?” You whispered 
“When she’ll be ready,” he replied. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/n. You’ve been a very positive presence in her life.” he hesitated, “I believe that what hurt you the most is the fact that she said she might not be able to give you what you were asking for.” he started, “Perhaps you took it and applied it to some more…romantic feelings of yours.” he finished with a small smile, as I felt heat rush all over my body. 
“Stilgar!” You exclaimed in embarrassment 
“I may be getting old, but my eyes still work. I see how you’ve been around her. This will be something to acknowledge when you’re ready.” he finished and I sighed.
“Thank you, father,” You say with a soft smile, which he returns.
Our moment was interrupted by a loud noise that shook the entire yali, followed by screams. You were immediately on your feet as you rushed out.
Your heart beating widely in your chest. 
—--------------------------------------------
Chaos was everywhere you looked. Children and adults alike rushed to escape the Sietch or to find loved ones lost in the panic as you were being attacked. 
You helped where you could, but you only had one thing on your mind, and that was to find Jessica. You wanted to believe that she had been rushed out by the fanatics of the prophecy, but you wouldn’t leave until you were absolutely sure. Why did I run away like a petulant child? You asked yourself. You’d never forgive yourself if something had happened to her. 
You ran from corner to corner as you helped some of the men and Fedaykin lead the people out to the rocks outside. Stilgar wasn’t too far and was shouting orders for the people to stay calm as rushing would only make things worse. 
You could see some bodies already lathering the floor as people passed you with missing appendages, tears in their eyes and their skin covered in blood. You probably didn’t fare much better - dust had covered your skin and your sight had been hindered. Still, you pushed through. I have to find her.
“Y/n!” You looked to Stilgar. “Get out of here!” He shouted and you shook my head, he sighed and you continued searching around for her, and helping people to the exit. 
From the corner of your eyes, you saw a large boulder rushing towards a little girl who was crying and screaming for her parents. You ran, as fast as you could and swept her up in your arms and out of the way before the rock could hit her. A woman who must have known her, grabbed her from you, and you urged them towards the exit. 
Still, you couldn’t find her, and the attacks didn’t stop. Most people were out, and you hadn’t caught a glimpse of her or even heard a mention of her name. Why did I leave her?
You suddenly found yourself on the ground as you were knocked down. You watched with blurry eyes, as you were trampled on as feet rushed past you. No one stopped to help you. Before you surrendered to the darkness, you heard Stilgar’s voice screaming your name, and your last thought was to Jessica. I hope she’s safe. Please be safe.
—--------------------
You slowly open your eyes to darkness, and for a moment you were afraid you had lost your eyesight. You slowly sat up, every bone in your body protesting and looked around before letting out a sigh of relief. You were in a cave and could see and hear the hustling around.
You got up, your movements slow and tentative before walking out and into the desert. You could see the damage that had been done, people around you were crying, and shouting. So many lost, who had done this? You could feel anger resurfacing in you, and you were suddenly reminded that Jessica was still missing. 
All around you, people were busy doing something as you looked for her. You noticed Shishakli some paces away and quickly walked to her. She noticed you and pulled you in a hug, only slightly hurting you.
“Thank the Maker,” she whispered as you closed your arms around her. “You scared me, Stilgar and Chani have been so worried. We all were,” she said as you separated from the hug, but her hands stayed on your forearms.
You felt a slight pang of guilt at not having spared a thought to her and the others.  
“What happened?” You asked, your voice coming out hoarse.
“Harkonnens” she growled. “They used some primitive explosives on us. Caught us by surprise. We’re treating our wounded before making our way South. A council has been called.” She explained. 
“Is Stilgar in any shape to speak?” You asked in concern, looking around for him. 
“He looks shaken up, but he’ll be okay. I hear he’s pushing for Usul to speak,” she said and you looked at her in shock. Only leaders could speak in the South. 
Surely - No. Paul wouldn’t. Of that you were certain. You had spent enough time with his mother to know what he was and wasn’t capable of. A voice in the back of your head whispered: Paul wouldn’t, but what about the Kwisatz Haderach?
You banished those thoughts. And focused on your friend and what you really cared about. 
“Where is the Reverend Mother?” you asked, the concern and urgency detectable even to your ears. Without a word, Shishakli pointed behind you, where you could see two people standing at the very top of a rock. 
“Her and Usul are discussing as she waits for her palanquin to be ready to leave.” You thanked her, before rushing towards the two Atreides. 
You arrived as their conversation ended and Paul was leaving. He nodded at you in greeting.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, with a glance back at his mother. “Take care of my mother and sister for me, will you?” he asked as you nodded. The ‘with my life’ was implied. And he left, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 
You were left alone with his mother. You took a breath before looking at her, she was staring right back at you. Her eyes said more than you could understand. Something about the way she looked at you was different. 
“I’m sorry,” 
“I’m sorry” 
You smiled as you spoke at the same time. “No, wait. I’ll go first.” you started. “I’m sorry I left like that, I was angry. I’m still angry, but I got so scared when I couldn’t find you. I looked around until I passed out, not kn-” You were cut off as you felt yourself rambling.
Jessica had crossed the small distance between you and pulled in a hug, her head resting in the crook of your neck. You held your breath for a moment, before wrapping your arms around her and breathing in her scent. You could finally breathe normally, for the first time since breakfast. 
“I wish you hadn’t looked for me,” she whispered in your neck, making you shiver. “I had to be dragged away. I was so worried when the first attack hit and I couldn’t find you anywhere, I watched and waited for you to come out - and when you finally did...” she hugged you tighter, before stepping away and staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry I used The Voice on you, I shouldn’t have done that. I will never do that again. Not to you.” she whispered the last part as she cupped your cheek with her hand. 
“Thank you,” You whispered, moved by her heartfelt apology and by the fact that she had been so worried about your safety.
She smiled before becoming more serious. “Y/n,” she started, and you looked at her prompting her to continue. “I-” A voice cut her off and you put some distance between you.
“Your palanquin is ready, Reverend Mother.” said a voice at the foot of the rocks, and she thanked the man. 
“In the South,” she said with a sigh. “Everything will come to a head in the South; there, we will talk,” she said as she started her descent to the palanquin. 
—------------------------------------
Except you didn’t talk. Things had been too busy for you to have a moment alone, long enough to put your cards on the table. 
She had become simultaneously more secretive and more caring. And then, Paul had died, and she had remained oddly quiet. 
This was the woman who worried about him daily, while he was fighting with the Fedaykin, yet she stared emotionlessly at the pale face of her firstborn, while others all around wept. Your eyes widened in understanding when Chani came storming in, how not to believe when you are faced with the hard cold facts? Paul was the Kwisatz Haderach, the Lisan al Gaib, the Mahdi. And Jessica was not just a mere Reverend Mother. 
You were in a trance as you followed Chani into a room that had been assigned to her. You watched as she walked around the room, her anger loud and clear. 
“What are you doing?” you asked finally, pushing your thoughts aside to focus on her distress. 
“I’m leaving.” She said as she pushed her clothes into her bag. “I will not watch as we cheer and support our new oppressor. Even if it’s Paul, the man I love.” she said angrily and she harshly wiped a tear from her cheek. 
“I think that’s the problem,” you said softly. 
“What?” she asked as she continued packing and you made yourself comfortable on the bed. 
“The problem is, you love Paul,” you said louder as she looked at you. “You love Paul - that boy who has lost everything and doesn’t know who he is; you love Usul - the man you were trying to create, the one who was escaping his destiny. But are you willing to love the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib, and the Kwisatz Haderach?” you continued. “Are you willing to love and accept the person he has to become and the things that he has to do? Stand by his side?” Although you were speaking about her situation, the words echoed with you. 
The weight of the responsibilities which lay on Jessica’s shoulders had only now become clear, and you found yourself thinking about your role in her life, about your feelings.
“What are you doing here?” you looked up at the cold words uttered by Chani and saw the object of your thoughts standing in the doorway. She was dressed down in a simple robe, with no veil obstructing her face, letting you see the tattoos which only served to enhance her beauty. She was beautiful. She was Jessica, not the Reverend Mother with plans within plans - just Jessica. Your heart skipped a beat. 
Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the clothes thrown about and the bag nearly packed to the brim, before meeting your eyes for just a second and settling on Chani. “I came to thank you and wish you good luck in your ventures,” she said softly.
“I don’t need anything from you,” said Chani as she grabbed the rest of her clothes, before making her to the door. I got up to follow her and watched as she stopped next to Jessica. “I hope destroying your son was worth it,” she said angrily, before leaving. You tried to follow her out, but were stopped by a hand on your wrist, forcing you to look at the tattooed woman. 
“Can we talk?” she asked in that same soft tone. You looked at Chani quickly retreating before nodding. You would catch up. 
“What is it?” You asked in an even tone as you sat back down on the bed, effectively putting distance between you. 
“Are you thinking of leaving with Chani?” she asked, not wasting any time. You stared at her. You were considering it, yes. But you also didn’t want to leave her. She must have sensed your indecisiveness. “I’m sorry if you were put off by all that I had to do, and what I will have to do in the future to ensure that the prophecy is completed. I wish I could say this isn’t me, but I’ve been trained for this my whole life, and this is what I’ve become.” she took a deep breath, “There’s been a lot of confusion in my head lately, but one thing I know for sure is that I love you.” she whispered and your heart skipped a beat. “I wasn’t prepared to love you, or anyone for that matter, but I fell for you and only realized when it was too late.” she paused as if to collect her thoughts. “I’m not here to beg you to stay or maybe I am, I’d very much prefer if you did; if only to keep my heart whole. Whatever the case, I had to say it: I love you. Not like I loved my Duke; it’s different but just as strong, if not more. There isn’t any obligation linked to my love for you, yet here I am, and here I shall remain, with my heart in my hands for you to claim - should you want it or not, it’s yours.” she finishes quietly and you stayed quiet as you took the time to process what she just said.
“You are Jessica, loving, caring, funny, sweet, gentle and sensitive. You are a Bene Gesserit, a Reverent Mother, you are the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach: you are driven, controlling, unrelenting, and secretive.” With each word, you took a step until you were right in front of her. “You are all that, and I love you. I will not always agree with what you have to do, or understand, but I will still love you and stand by your side. So here I am, and here I shall remain.” You said, echoing her words. “I will take your heart and cherish it - if you’re willing to take mine and do the same,” You said softly as you felt tears run down your face. 
She looked at you so softly, and traced your cheek with her hand, just as gently, before pulling you impossibly close and whispering: “Your heart will be safe with me” before pressing her lips to yours in a searing kiss. 
The road ahead was patchy, but you would walk it forever if it meant you could stay by her side.
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onyxmilk · 4 months
Note
Hello! Can you write about spy x family? (I'm obsessed with Loid) where OC is engaged to Loid/Twilight and becomes jealous of Yor.
Sorry, English is not my first language.
Twilight x gn!Reader; "Jealous"
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notes; i love some twilight fanfiction, esp because everything is freaking SMUT (last time i checked)!!! we need some sfw ish in here!!! tw; Reader uses They/Them pronouns!, jealousy wc; 1.2k
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Twilight and [CodeName] both got married on a whim for the benefits inside their spy company, neither did they expect to actually fall in love and want a proper marriage with each other, but they did! They were one of the cutest couples around, and when they worked together they were the absolute dream team. They would get the mission done and thensome, do some afterwork, clear the paperwork out, the two would go the extra mile to make sure no one had to clean up after them. 
When [CodeName] and Twilight renewed their vows because they ended up falling in love for more than mutual benefits, the two decided to go a little big. [CodeName] wore the most extravagant clothing, and Twilight wore a tailored suit to his liking. The couple held a huge after ceremony, inviting most of the company to join and celebrate their marriage. It may sound uncharacteristic for Twilight, but it was most definitely in character for [CodeName]. 
During the couple’s dance, as they were following tradition, [CodeName] leaned into Twilight and whispered “[YourName],” No explanation aside from a single name that left their lips. Twilight looked confused at first, but then it clicked- [CodeName] was dropping their real name. Twilight smiled warmly, bringing his partner in for a kiss. Twilight had long forgotten his name, but to know that [CodeName] entrusted him with such personal information brought warmth and joy to his heart. Especially on such a special night like this. 
[YourName] didn’t need to know Twilight’s real name, all they needed to know was that the man loved them and that he was accepting no matter what, which Twilight was. They just thought it would be a cute detail to drop on Twilight in the middle of, what the couple considers, their first real dance together as a ‘properly’ married couple. That night, [YourName] and Twilight got home, took off the over-the-top clothing, changed into pajamas, and shared a nice glass of red wine on the couch while watching some old TV shows that [YourName] enjoyed. 
It would be about three years later that [YourName] had to be put on a mission that placed them across the country. With a sadden face, [YourName] said their goodbyes to their husband and kissed Twilight one last time before them and a few other agents were shipped off. Twilight would be out of commission for about a day before he recovered, maybe he and [YourName] needed this split because the two of them were so dependent on each other. 
The two would always reference each other as partners for each other, and because the couple did work so well together and cleaned up after one another without needing a second thought, they did get paired up together what could be considered all the time. Now, sometimes [YourName] would be paired up with another person and other times Twilight would be paired up with a different person, and it never shattered each other. But being away from each other for months really took Twilight aback and he just needed a day to recuperate. 
During the few months that [YourName] was gone, Twilight was placed in charge of Operation Strix, which forced Twilight to find a wife and child. It had been quite some time since Twilight had to fake such an in depth relationship, and without [YourName] here to confirm that it was okay, or better yet have them play the role of his partner, he felt a little sick to his stomach. But a mission was a mission and it needed to be done. 
He wouldn’t get comfortable in his position, but he would get a better understanding of becoming a father in case he and [YourName] wanted children. Every day, when [YourName] was still out on their mission across the country and wasn’t here to call or see him in person at the hospital, Twilight thought about how different the mission would have been going if only [YourName] was around to assist as per usual. For some reason, he felt he’d be further in his investigation. Perhaps because they were truly married and didn’t have to put on some act for the world to see, or because perhaps the two of them have talked about a family before and this would just fill that hole temporarily. 
One day while at the hospital, looking over some papers, Twilight got a call that he was needed in the lobby. He had assumed that perhaps a patient was having a breakdown and needed some comfort from their doctor. Instead, nurses were welcoming a new nurse. “Loid!” His co-worker greeted as they walked over to him, “Have you seen the new nurse? Not to be unprofessional, but smoking hot,” The co-worker laughed but Twilight rolled his eyes while pretending to humor the thought, looking around for this new person. He didn’t expect to see [YourName], dressed in scrubs, holding a cup of juice, and laughing with a few of the other nurses. 
Twilight blinked a few times, a huge smile on his face when he made his way over. A few of the girl nurses giggled before shying away, while the guy nurses simply roamed off to allow Loid and [Name] to talk. “You’re back,” Twilight whispered, half shock and half relief flooding his face. “Mhm, and I’m assisting you on Strix. I’m a nanny on the side.” [YourName] replied in the same whispered tone. Twilight’s heart broke a little at the news, that was the last thing he wanted [YourName] to see; him acting as if he had a wife in front of other people. “I understand, are you caught up?” Twilight asks and with hesitation [YourName] nods their head. 
It would be a few days later that Loid brings up the idea of hiring a nanny to assist with Anya during the week. The nanny would come in the afternoon, help out with homework and study time, then head home around dinner. Yor of course thought the idea was wonderful and let Loid make a list of people, which most were fake just so they had no choice but to hire [YourName]. 
A few days later, it was a Saturday, Loid and Yor sat together on the couch while [YourName] sat on the chair across from them. Yor, to make their relationship look believable to the naked eye, wrapped her arm around Loid’s arm. It took everything in [YourName] not to break right then and there and claim Twilight as their own. They knew that this was for the mission, but unfortunately, jealousy doesn’t understand that. 
The interview went great and Yor agreed with Loid that [Name] should be hired, “Let me walk you to your car.” Loid offered. This was mostly so they could get alone time together before the night ended. “Do you enjoy a clingy wife?” [YourName] asked as they walked out the apartment complex, Twilight was taken aback before shaking his head with a small chuckle- he had never seen [YourName] jealous before and it was quite cute to witness. “No, darling, she simply wanted to sell what people think her and I have. I love you no matter what.” Twilight promised, opening the door for [YourName]. 
[YourName] nodded slowly, smiling eventually. “I want to kiss you so bad..” [YourName] says, “I know, one day soon, dear.” Twilight replied, allowing [YourName] to get into their car and he shut the door before stepping aside and watching [YourName] drive off to wherever they stayed for the night. Twilight hoped that they would stay at their home, so they could be around a familiar setting and smell familiar smells.
He wanted them to be comfortable, for [YourName] is his partner, and they are his.
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yuri-is-online · 8 months
Text
And Your Name Is? (Sebek, Silver, Idia)
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Synopsis- After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.
But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, thanks to the lovely annon who requested this, they suggested Silver and Sebek in celebration of Book 7 Chapter 5 and I decided to add Idia because I expect he'll be doing something soon-ish. Please look to my masterlist for the other parts if you liked this.
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Sebek
This is madness, it has to be. What other explanation could he have for these memories torturing him every time he finds himself alone. Lilia had reassured them they were real, even if Lord Malleus's memory was fuzzy and Silver's as unreliable as ever what he saw, what he felt, were all painfully real. There was a missing student from his first year class, an incompetent irrevocably out of place, magicless human who seemed determined to get into the worst situations possible. He can't decide who he is angrier at, the other students for forgetting you, you for once again getting yourself into a situation someone would need to rescue you from, or himself for... for... for...
He'd asked his mother once, angrily and painfully disrespectfully, why she would marry someone so weak. The perspective of time, looped or otherwise, made him realize he was really blaming her for the way his grandfather saw him. As if he could have somehow earned his total respect and love if he erased everything about his father from his being, as if the answer his mother ultimately gave him was a sin somehow.
"Because my love is not weak, true love never is. You can let it change you for the better, or you can let it make you worse. When you see the person you love you will know what they'll do, your soul becomes theirs in a way. Your strengths and weaknesses become shared."
Sebek thinks he must be letting love make him worse. He isn't loud when he approaches your silhouette, he makes no announcement, no demand you be grateful he is paying you attention despite your humanity. He just sits under the apple tree, and quietly into the the empty night air reads a novel. There's a vague memory he has of a much louder conversation you had here about the exact same book. The knight saves his love at the cost of his own life, and he had gone on at much louder length about how noble that was.
You though, you had hated it. "What's the point of living if the person you want to share your life with had to die for it?"
"Do you remember?" His voice is still woefully in line with a normal volume, and you are still just out of reach. "That is what you said, and I am sure I said something very stupid about knightly honor. I probably told you that a mere human would never understand, but whatever I might have meant you were right in the end. It's an empty world when your life is paid for with the life of someone you love." You flicker as if to disappear, but Sebek is faster, snapping up from his seat to grasp you in a death roll and tumbling down to the grass. Yes, love is absolutely making him worse, how else is he supposed to explain to anyone the sheer joy he feels to find you, heavy and warm in the flesh successfully pinned under him and trembling. He can atone for his improprieties later, the sheer worry you inflicted demands immediate penance. There is no running from your fate, not that the arms that encircle his shoulders and pull him further down seem at risk of fleeing anywhere. Sebek's eyes close in relief, allowing himself finally to release his weakness into the strength of your embrace.
Silver
He used to dream what it would be like to live without his curse. Granted Silver didn't have much of an imagination, most of those thoughts consisted of him doing simple things like training with his father or cooking without fear of hurting himself, not that those were bad things to want. Now though, he almost missed his lapses into sleep. He was certain, based off of what little Malleus and Lilia had been able to tell him about the here and there, that he could find you in his dreams. When he went to bed at night he knew he slept, knew he dreamed, but for some reason he just couldn't find you. There were traces, locations he remembers from past timelines, places he's sure must be a twisted echo from your world, all showing traces he could follow but never once showing him you.
It was enough to make him cry, he swears he's cried more in the past month than he has in how ever many years he's been alive. He knows it's scaring his father, he thinks it's scaring Sebek. Malleus is still under the impression there is a way to save you so he has yet to give into fear, but if the way he dismisses Silver, teasingly telling him to get some rest, is any reassurance he's worried about him too.
"I really hope you aren't missing because you think we don't care." He seldom speaks aloud to you outside of dreams, Silver isn't sure if you can hear him when he does. But there's a painful strength to his desire tonight, maybe fueled by the silhouette he saw flickering just beyond the Ramshackle Gate earlier in the evening. He knows Malleus told him to rest, but he finds himself walking back there "just in case" before he returns to his dorm. It's quiet here, inviting himself to close his eyes and begin tracing the steps he saw earlier. You were dancing, he tried to reach for your hand to give you the partner the waltz so clearly demanded but only found air. They're still only holding air when when he pauses, eyes blurring as he tries to examine a still tingling palm, confused to find tears pooling in its center as words continue to flow. "That's not to say if you do I don't understand. If I was in your place, I would feel lonely too. It has to be painful, feeling so alone when you are surrounded by so many people..." His eyes close. A gentle breeze picks up the autumn leaves and tickle his nose with a familiar scent as he chokes out an earnest plea: "Is it too much to ask for you to be lonely in my hands? I promise I'll hold on so tight you never float away again." A comforting weight settles itself onto his hand, his fingers thread through theirs and his other arm pulls them into his embrace through sheer muscle memory before his eyes even open.
"Why are you crying?" A voice he's been chasing after for hundreds of years now, cracked from a months worth of silence asks him so earnestly and sweetly the only response he can find is laughter.
"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter!" His arm finds it's way under your legs to sweep you up into a protective cradle as he spins you around and around to reassure himself that this is not a dream, no matter the familiar gleam shining up at him from your eyes.
Idia
This is so not worth it. Idia is not built for this, this, this cliche bullshit plot line. He will not own up to his past self's decisions, he will stay resolute in nihilistic pride and continue to refer to himself as a looser NEET who has never gotten any in his entire life. And technically, as he has argued to Ortho for the past five hours now, that is still true.
"New timeline new me, I am not in love with a student who doesn't technically exist that was my much cooler alter ego." He says that, but Ortho knows that's not a video game's code he has pulled up on his monitor. And despite checking the school's security cams being his thing, his older brother has several open on his other monitor. They've been changing through this entire argument, clearly monitoring wherever you appear and logging it as data in a massive spreadsheet Ortho has maybe taken one or two looks at when he managed to convince Idia to take a nap.
"Um big brother, not to be rude-" Ortho really wants to be. Idia isn't the only one who loves you, just the only one insistent on denying his feelings. "but isn't it sort of... childish to deny yourself at this point? The prefect-"
"They can't be a prefect if they aren't in school." Idia snaps.
"Just Yuu then." Ortho chooses to take the weird cackle Idia lets out as a sign he is making progress with his code and not a sign of a mental break. Yet. "They never showed interest in anyone else, they always picked you. That's got to be enough data to prove that when you save them," because there really is no point in pretending Idia is trying to do anything else at this point, even he gave up denying that just fifteen minutes into this conversation "they won't abandon you for anyone else."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Idia doesn't think he meant to say that, the words sort of just fall out of his mind onto his lap. He risks a look at the security footage, your ghost seldom comes into Ignihyde. That had bothered him at first, angered him even. What, you'll tell him you love him, steal his first kiss every time you can, and watch all his favorite shows just to get him to talk to you more but then when you're trapped in a liminal space you won't bother knocking on his door? Did all those things you said you would do only apply to the good times?
Not that it changed what he was going to do, part of him saw saving you as a challenge but mostly it was just out of gratitude for saving Ortho. That would have earned you his help even without the whole "lovers doomed by the narrative" thing you had going on. But recently, the more he worked on saving you really, he had started to wonder if his self doubt was what was pushing you away. Idia hated how much magic could rely on something as unpredictable and unreliable as human emotion, but it did. And whatever was happening to you was absolutely magical, he had the data to prove it. Reluctantly, ignoring Ortho's protests despite the guilt that gnaws at him he leaves his room. The harsh nighttime light of Ignihyde's LED displays bounce off his skin as he shuffles himself through the empty dormitory, no real destination in mind. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud in front of Ortho, he couldn't bring himself to say it in front of you either, if his spotty memory is serving him correctly. He finds himself stood in front of a vending machine in one of the school's hallways, two distorted shadows flickering with equal uncertainty in the glass.
"Hungry?" Idia doesn't know why he asks, but he knows why he puts enough money into the machine for two bags of chips. "I keep forgetting I'm just getting shit for myself now." You don't respond, but Idia isn't too surprised or upset. It has to be weird hearing him address you directly after he's spent so much time ignoring you. "Just because Ignihyde's meant to respect the King of the Underworld doesn't mean you'll get snatched away if you pay me a visit. You shouldn't be afraid of him, he isn't dangerous to you." But I am. He doesn't say that, but the words hang heavy in the air anyway. Your shadow tries to reach for the vending machine, but pause almost confused when Idia beats you to punch in the familiar number of your favorite drink.
I love you. He doesn't say it out loud, but the thunk of the can makes the point just the same Idia realizes when he brings the can up to a very confused, very familiar looking face. You are confused, and a bit scared when he drops the drink to tackle you but you hold onto him anyway.
I love you too. You don't say it either but the steady, comforting beat of your heart screams it just the same. I will find you in ever lifetime.
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fwoopersongs · 1 month
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[Book Rec + Reaction/Thoughts] The Lantern and the Night Moths 灯与夜蛾 by Yilin Wang
An anthology of translated poems by five modern or contemporary poets and accompanying essays by the translator, @yilinwriter.
You can find the pronunciation guide and list of corrections here!
The cover art, a beautiful expression of the tone of this collection, is by Taiwanese artist Ciaoyin (check out her gorgeous insta!). I'm looking forward to the arrival of the physical book as my tab absolutely does not do it justice xD
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Anyway! The official release date is 02 April 2024 though there have been some very thoughtful reviews by early readers already. Here, here, here and here.
(It was an ARC that I received too… though in the time it took to put this together, the ebooks have already gone out to readers >.< typical snail yj!) 
Instead, I’ll tell you who I think would be interested in this book or might benefit from reading it, then share things that are cool about it from the perspective of a bilingual hobbyist translator + lover of ancient poetry and lyrics.
Who should read it?
If annotations, translator’s notes and reflections spark joy for you...
If you’ve ever read poetry translations and been intensely curious about what goes on under the hood...
If you’re a translator yourself wanting to hear another voice...
Definitely check this out!
Also if you’re CN+EN bilingual and have ever read something in English that references Chinese terms and concepts etc. except ONLY in English, pinyin or wade-giles and been utterly frustrated by the ensuing guessing game (like me) Fear Not.
That will not be a problem here.
I really appreciate how Chinese words are used naturally where needed for concepts and quotes - they are also translated for those who can't read Chinese so no one is left out. It made this book of and about translation (and more) super comfortable to read! The solution is so simple, so direct, so rarely used that I am amused.
Oh, but do note that the Chinese characters are in simplified though!
The poems are organised by their writers who are listed here by order of birth year, not appearance in the book:
秋瑾 (Qiu Jin, 1875 to 1907)
废名 (Fei Ming. 1901 to 1967)
戴望舒 (Dai Wangshu, 1905 to 1950)
小西 (Xiao Xi, 1974 to _)
张巧慧 (Zhang Qiaohui, 1978 to _) 
Altogether, that covers nearly the last 150 years up to now. I’ve never really been into poetry by poets in such relatively recent times, in part because I’d been holding on to this stereotype of them spurning Classical Chinese and ancient poetry in the first half of the 20th century (not entirely true, as I came to realise xD). It made sense and was understandable, but felt sad.
Yet am I the target audience for this book?
Very much so.
In ways I didn’t think I would be too! It was so much fun to experience this both as a reader and a translator that I thought I’d share it here, where we are appreciating Chinese poetry together.
If you didn’t think you’d enjoy modern Chinese poetry, hey, give it a chance!
Oh yeah - on the way home a while back, I was talking to a friend about translation and was surprised to hear that her impression was that it ought to be a straightforward process. Like isn’t it a 1:1 conversion? At some point, ‘what’s the difference between something google translate might return, and how you would say it?’ was asked, and oh that was a delightful question to my ears! I showed her one of my comparison sheets where an original text is laid out alongside multiple translations line-by-line, briefly explaining some common and unique choices and how the people who had translated those probably arrived at the various interpretations. She was pretty amazed to see that the answer to her question was: very different. Hey, it’s a complicated process!
But there’s only so much one can explain in the space of a train ride. That’s why The Lantern and the Night Moths is a book I would also rec to someone like this friend of mine - open minded and curious but never having the chance to think about or encounter the craft of translation.
Like Yilin says, ‘the meaning of a word cannot be fully expressed in one single translation, nor through a series of translation attempts’. She then explains why with great attention to detail and some solid examples from one of the poems with word choices loaded with subtle connotations :D
What's interesting about it?
Okay, for one, Yilin shared a playlist of music that she listened to while working on this book. Here is the link to the spotify one and the one on youtube. Check them out! They sure put me in the mood to read xD (favs: 别知己, 小神仙 & 去有風的地方) Afterwards, this made so much sense like - ah! an audio moodboard.
She's also putting together these adorable mini profiles of each poet along with a cmedia and tea rec to match their vibes. Go see them on her instagram xD
Now to business...
structure
What really helped keep the reader’s focus was the way each section is organized, how the poems and accompanying essay were presented and finally the short bio of each person right at the end. 
The poets are first introduced through five or six of their poems, works well suited to this purpose. Their voices, distinct through the vision, ambition and emotion of their words, are brought across by Yilin’s sensitive, thoughtful and poetic translations into English. These translations were also creative and transformative in a way that made so much sense after reading one of her reflections on the process, how she ‘must guide it with gentle hands to ensure its spirit is kept alive and intact during this transformative, and often excruciating process’. A rebirth into another language!
Personally, I’ve come to think of reading translations as looking at a work through another’s eyes. So it’s delightful when the translator’s presence is discernible, and even more so when the reader is given insight into their intention and process via commentary. 
Yilin’s essays coupled with the poets’ bios at the end provide a means to go back and appreciate their works in context of their circumstance and inspirations. Similarly, to read the translations with a changed perspective.
I don’t know how much of a thing this is with translated poetry anthologies in English - can count the number I’ve read with both hands lol, and they’re all of the ancient chinese poetry variety - but I really like this design.
drawing on poets who came before them
Remember how we’re always recognizing traces of inspiration from ancient works (to them) in poetry of the various dynasties? 李商隐 Li Shangyin of Tang for example, was influenced by 楚辞 Verses of Chu and folklore and mythology such as that in 山海经 Classic of Mountains and Seas, 李白 Li Bai frequently references poets and history of the 魏晋 Wei-Jin era, and 王维 Wang Wei was clearly familiar with Buddhist scriptures which were translations themselves! 
Just like the late Táng poets whom he praised for boldly deviating from the voices before them, Fei Ming used popular references and tropey shorthands ‘in contexts utterly different from the original, reimagining them anew’. Dai Wangshu, too, ‘boldly re-envisioned what modern poetry could look like by revisiting the classics’. In fact, in his very relatable ‘To Answer the Visitor with Classical Imagery’, I see Li Bai’s 春夜宴桃李园序, Qu Yuan’s 离骚 and lots of - as the title says - classical imagery, as if pulling out painting after painting to describe a feeling.
And Dai Wangshu’s faith in the translatability of poetry, that ‘poetry isn’t what is lost in translation, but rather, what survives it’ reminds me of what a friend, @xiakeponz, said that I agree with so much - because readers can ‘experience something in their own individual way through (your) shared humanity rather than language alone’.
poetic tradition and beyond
Between the lines of contemporary poets Zhang Qiaohui and Xiao Xi, I can really see the charm of plain vernacular, how it can be beautiful, incisive and clever in turns. Even as it seems to have moved further than ever from the structure and language of literary Chinese, the themes that inspired common motifs remain a part of life. Mother and divinity, homesickness, finding oneself, tributes to admirable spirits and the issues that trouble society - just in a new form and with different ways of expression.
Qiu Jin
So many FEELINGS about what Qiu Jin was doing - ‘I awaken the spirits of women, hundreds of flowers, abloom’. I would love if she could see the world now. So many things for her to rouse and fight against, but at the same time just as many to be proud of. I am so in awe of her, but now hearing her loneliness and struggle there is a soft spot in my heart for those too. 
conclusion
So so so…
Qiu Jin’s admirable fire and lonely resolve. Zhang Qiaohui’s precious ability to express beauty in the mundane and in pain. Fei Ming’s utter delight! He is having so much fun and when* I’m vibing, I feel it too. Xiao Xi’s critical eye and keen observation of the world. Dai Wangshu’s whimsical charm and passion for translation. Finally, Yilin Wang, the connecting thread wound through them all, bringing them together so that we may be acquainted. 
*Reading his poetry is like unwrapping a seamless, many layered present. A gift that keeps giving - if only you have a key 😅 Fortunately, Yilin has halved our struggle 🤣
I’ve had such a great time with them all. And if you come, I hope you will too!
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emeow-blog · 5 months
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Fyolai ~ Shortfic + oneshot "I think I can love you"
This is the first writing thing I have ever posted here ._.
im sorry i wrote this in 30 mins it makes absolutely no sense UwU
No NSFW (Sadge /j) BUT some TWs apply: Mentions of past trauma, mentions of gore, mentions of death.
WC: 1833 (Ik its short im sorrryyyyyyy)
THERE WILL BE SOME RUSSIAN IN THIS STORY BC I LITERALLY CAN'T WRITE FYOLAI W/ OUT USING MY LANGUAGE (I HC them using both formal and familiar "you" so shhhhhhh) Just trust that it isn't that important to the story translate it if u want~
"I think I can love you."
~
‘Love’ was a word that Fyodor didn’t understand. It was overused. The Greeks had some greater idea of love, with words for different types. As for now, present day, love could be used for anything from appreciation, to desire, to lust, to joy. Love, the emotion, was perhaps the hardest to understand. Fyodor had never felt love for another person. His mother always told him how much ‘love’ she felt for his father. He heard teenagers talking about loving this boy, or this girl. Love was not an emotion he was capable of feeling. 
It had been this way for decades. No matter how many people claimed to love him, he turned them all away. Looking back, there was one person he had accepted into his life. 
One person who he allowed himself to befriend.
But that wasn’t love. That was tolerance.
Loving Nikolai Gogol was not a possibility in the slightest.
“Dos-kunnnnnnn~” Nikolai whined over his shoulder. “Stop pacing!”
“Вы сука- quiet, Nikolai.” Fyodor waved the man’s words away. “I’m thinking.”
“But it’s midnight!”
“And this is exactly why I was hesitant to share a room with you.”
Second of course is that he would likely kill me in my sleep…
Death at least seemed like an upgrade from life. Nikolai had expressed his urge to kill Fyodor before. It wouldn’t be long before he attempted again.
“Fine then. I’ll sing myself to sleep~”
“No-”
‘Спи, младенец мой прекрасный,
Баюшки-баю.
Тихо смотрит месяц ясный
В колыбель твою.
Стану сказывать я сказки,
Песенку спою;
Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки,
Баюшки-баю.’
“Stop it.”
Nikolai continued his odd rendition of Cossack.
По камням струится Терек,
Плещет мутный вал;
Злой чечен ползет на берег,
Точит свой кинжал;
Но отец твой старый воин,
Закален в бою:
Спи, малютка, будь спокоен,
Баюшки-баю~
He ended his song on a long note, slightly changing the meaning of the sound. Nikolai’s voice wasn’t exactly professional, but it was soothing. More soothing than Fyodor would have liked it to be.
The Cossack was one of the only memories from his childhood. Its notes were seared into his brain, along with the voice of his mother singing it every night. She would say, ‘Спи, федецчка, будь спокоен, Баюшки-баю.’ for the last line, a smile on her face.
That smile was now gone. 
The new grin he saw every day belonged to a man. A man dressed in white and black with multicolored eyes.
“Dos-kunnnnnnnnnnnnnnn~ come to bed nowwww~”
“Not after that, clown.”
“Come onnnn, you know you love me~”
For some reason, the joke broke his stoic demeanor.
“Like I could ever love someone, let alone you!”
The night was spent restless, memories of that desecrated church, the worshippers coughing up blood, Fyodor standing at the altar with a face lacking emotion. They deserved to die, and yet he still had horrific dreams about it every night. Dreams where Nikolai was in the crowd, where the blood covering his well-worn ushanka was not his, but that of the boy in white. 
In these dreams, Nikolai was the only person left standing, crimson dripping from his nose, mouth, and eyes. He would smile, and say something. The words were always unintelligible, his throat filling with blood. 
Crime and Punishment didn’t only affect the criminal like its name suggested. Anybody who ingested the poison flowing through the veins of Fyodor Dostoyevsky could be brought down with a wave of a hand. Including the people he cared for. 
Today, the dreams changed.
He sat in the first pew, carefully counting and recounting the 33 buttons on the Priest’s coat. Likely made of pure gold. The eyes of the worshippers around him were glazed over, their minds lost and withered to a spell. Everything was methodical and repeated. 
Like usual, Fyodor opened the bible in front of him to recite along with the Priest. 
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
The same line. Romans 8:38-39. At the same time as usual, Holy Communion was announced. Fyodor stood up and volunteered to help. A single drop of his blood was added to the wine chalice. The wine and bread was passed around.
Once the Priest drank, Fyodor activated his ability, standing behind the altar. A shriek rang out from the back pew, and people began to clutch their throats as blood poured from their lips. The man beside him coughed up the foul red liquid. The plan had succeeded, yet Fyodor felt no joy. There was no happiness or sadness from killing. It was simply meant to be.
A boy stumbled out from the dark space behind the pews. A boy dressed in white, with multicolored eyes. Blood dripped from his face and onto the floor. 
“Nikolai?” Fyodor asked, horror seeping into his expression.
Nikolai smiled, crimson welling up like tears. Or maybe they were tears, stained red. They ran down his cheeks from his eyes. He appeared to be crying.
“What did you do? Did you take the poison?” The dark haired boy ran down the steps, clutching his wooden cross. 
Nikolai nodded. 
“No.” Fyodor grabbed Nikolai’s hands, shaking them, “You didn’t.”
Nikolai smiled again. But this time, instead of failing to speak his final words, they escaped from his throat.
“I love you Fedya. I always will.”
Fyodor awoke to moonlight streaming across the floor upon which he laid. He had refused to share the only bed in the room with Nikolai after his outburst. Why the inn couldn’t supply them with a double room, he didn’t know. His anger was silly. The word love shouldn’t trigger such a reaction out of a grown man. It shouldn’t be a product of his nightmares. 
And yet here he was, trembling from a dream already fading away. The voice of child-Nikolai echoing in his ears. 
I love you Fedya, I always will.
How tempted he was to say he loved him back. A temptation that he had never felt an inkling of before. Did the dream change because of what Nikolai had said just before he fell asleep? No. He wasn’t able to love. He wasn’t able to love Nikolai, and he never would. His longing was an illusion. An illusion where the only cure was denial. 
Denial led to spending the rest of the night lying awake on the floor until the first light. His eyes closed, the glow from the sun placating his nightmares.
“Dos-kun? Wake up~ you’re shivering.”
Nikolai hovered over Fyodor’s half-conscious form, waving his hand in front of his eyes.
“Are you sick?” He pressed his fingers to the man’s forehead, murmuring at the heat spreading into the tips, through his gloves. “Seems so.”
“Nnnnhh… stop…” Fyodor whispered. He didn’t get sick, yet it was hard to deny the lethargy that spread through his joints as he lay on the floor. “I’m not sick… Nikolai-”
“Shhhhh.” The white clothed man swiped the pad of his thumb across the other’s lips, effectively silencing the feeble protests. “Let me care for you.” 
Nikolai was acting rather differently from usual, but Fyodor was much too exhausted to question it. Placing a damp cloth on his forehead after transporting him to the single bed, Nikolai rested his hand on the other’s. 
Warm and cold, yin and yang. Their hands fit like they were made for eachother. And as Fyodor drifted in and out of sleep, his grip on the other became tighter. 
“Don’t let go of me.”
Nikolai’s face contorted in surprise, but he sat back down nevertheless. Fyodor was his reason for living, and making him feel comforted and happy was his ultimate goal. The only thing left was to get Fyodor to tell him he loved him. He must love him. He had to. Nikolai loved him, so why wouldn’t Fyodor love him back? Wasn’t that how it worked? It seemed that way on the television. If the main female loved the main male, then he loved her back automatically. Female and male…
Fyodor slept through the day, mumbling odd prayers and lines from the bible in his delirium. Nikolai couldn’t pick out many words, as he seemed to be reverting back to his northern Russian dialect, softer spoken.
Until he recognized one:
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Followed by a name:
“Don’t die, Kolya”
No. Fyodor claimed he had forgotten that. Claimed he had left the event in the past. He gripped the sick man’s hand tighter, willing their skin to meld together, to switch bodies and end his suffering. Nikolai knew the nightmares personally. If Fyodor, his Fedya, was still experiencing them now, how long had they been plaguing him?
“Fedya, wake up” The man tried to shake the other awake. “Please wake up. Nothing will hurt you. I’m here.”
No response.
“Please. I promise I'm here. I’m not dead.”
One word left Fyodor’s lips, “...Что?”
The language of their childhood that they rarely spoke in conversation anymore. They used it to talk in secret, not uttering more than a few words. Occasionally to annoy the other (Nikolai’s singing). But never personally, too many memories surfaced.
The song.
It elicited a reaction before, but would it work again?
“Я здесь, Федя. Я здесь”
‘Спи, младенец мой прекрасный,
Баюшки-баю.
Тихо смотрит месяц ясный
В колыбель твою.
Стану сказывать я сказки,
Песенку спою;
Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки,
Баюшки-баю.’
His voice broke slightly when he saw Fyodor’s eyes flutter.
По камням струится Терек,
Плещет мутный вал;
Злой чечен ползет на берег,
Точит свой кинжал;
Но отец твой старый воин,
Закален в бою:
“Колыа?” Fyodor whispered.
Finally:
Спи, малютка, будь спокоен,
Баюшки-баю~
Nikolai smiled genuinely at the sick man in his lap, “Все кончено. Я здесь. И я-”
“Вы что?”
“Мне так жаль. Я чертовски сильно люблю тебя, и мне так жаль, что я заставил тебя это сделать. Я причинил тебе боль и-”
“Вы любите меня?”
Oh fuck. He did not mean to say that, “...Да.”
“Oh god.” Back to English.
“What?”
“Kolya. I think I love you too. I think I can love you.” He hiccupped as a sob broke from his throat, “Don’t leave me, I don’t want you to die.”
Nikolai didn’t know whether this was delusion from illness or serious, but he allowed himself to hope. A single tear escaped his eyelashes and fell onto Fyodor’s chest, right on top of his heart.
“Are you serious?”
“... Yes. Fuck, I’m not sick.” tears continued to flow down his cheeks.
Nikolai cried too, “You are.”
“Don’t leave me again… please”
“I won’t. Never again.”
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fairlylino · 1 year
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SECRET SECRET / hwang hyunjin au / CHAPTER 1
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word count; 2.2 k
authors note; im so excited to be sharing the first episode of secret secret with you guys! im hoping that you enjoy reading this as much as I did with writing it !
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Hyunjin loved it. He loved every second of doing this. 
He felt so much at peace, so much comfort and so much relief in what he is doing. 
Drawing, painting, sketching. 
In his apartment, alone, with soft music playing in the background of his slight messy room due to paint brushes and paper, with his hair being brushed back with a hairband, and wearing a glove to not get his hand messy. 
His friends always call him an old soul. They cant seem to understand the passion the long haired male has for art. 
But he didnt mind that. 
They got along nevertheless, having the time of their lives together, being best of friends ever since attending highschool. 
Now theyre adults, free from school and deciding to work together. Even living at the same place. 
Hyunjin, Bangchan, and Jisung. 
Its a weird trio, honeslty, because their interests are nothing alike. 
Well, only some of them aren’t.
What they equally find interesting is music. Making, producing and dancing to music. They loved it.
Thats the reason why the young three males own a little group, gaining a bit of followers on soundcloud, following to grow even bigger on youtube.
Jisung being the songrwriter, Bangchan the producer and Hyunjin the dancer.
They loved what they were doing. Music was like a golden pear keeping them as best friends.
They do say you get along best with people that are nothing like you.
No one believes the story on how they met. Because how can three people who absolutely hated the guts of each other, end up sharing an apartment, living together ever since?
They dont know how that worked out, but it definitely did and theyre glad it did.
All three have different kinds of interests besides music, and they all respect that.
Hyunjins interests just happened to be art.
He loved painting his surroundings, his thoughts, pictures he captured, moments he shared with his friends full of joy and happiness.
As well as his dreams.
He cant seem to get tired of it. Ever.
Ever since that one dream.
It was something about dreaming, that inspired him so much. He found it so interesting to think how the human brains works and how it processes past experiences through dreaming.
Every now and then he remembers another detail of the dream, immediately sketching it, so he wont forget.
See, some people write down their dreams, Hyunjin likes to draw them.
Which is honestly way more difficult.
Since with every day that passes, the fear of forgetting grows bigger.
Sketch after sketch he would try his best to draw every detail of the female.
Why was he so invested in it?
Because it was the first and last time he’d seen her. Every night he would pray to see her once again, how he would do everything to talk to her, hear her beautiful voice again, looking into her angelic eyes again.
But nothing.
Thats what made him so invested. He understood every reason behind his dreams, associating them with his reality and experiences. But what was this one about?
He softly drew her hair, how they swayed in the wind and breeze, the hem of dress following the movements, and her gentle, sparkly face.
Her eyes were the most difficult part.
Why is it that, the part he remembers the most were her eyes, but also were the hardest to draw?
Sketch after sketch he’d try again, thinking the more he’d draw her, the more perfect he would remember her.
Did he tell his friends about his dream?
Yes.
Did he tell them she was the girl he kept drawing?
No.
They didnt, and shouldnt know anything about him drawing the girl of his dreams.
What they know is that one dream keeps him up at night, that he wishes to dream the same thing again.
His friend realised ever since that one specific dream, he has been acting different.
As if he got reminded of something bad happening in his past life.
But they never dared to ask. Because even Hyunjin didnt have an answer to that.
With a knock on the door, he got distracted from his thoughts.
“Jinnie, we are going out to eat, wanna come?” Jisung asked, not fully entering and only reaching his head out the door.
Hyunjin sat on his bed, the sketchbook in his hand taking a look at it again.
He hated it. It looked nothing like her.
He always messed up her eyes.
He sighed.
Maybe he needs a break, some fresh air.
“Sure, I’ll get ready.”
They were at their favourite cafe, being regual customers ever since they moved here, across the street. It was small, never full and fit their vibes and comfort just perfect.
“Not going to lie I am a bit nervous…” Chan fiddled his fingers, playing with the straw of his drink.
Jisung rose an eyebrow. “Why? Everything will be fine. We’ve been waiting for this since forever,” he replied.
Chan sighed, nodding. “I know but… arent you nervous one bit? After all we have been working with them for so long, and are finally meeting them in real life…”
Hyunjin agreed. As much as he was excited to finally have some movements in their career, he would lie if he said he wasnt nervous or anxious.
What if they dont get along? What if they’re completely different than what they acted like through all the video calls?
“Listen, guys. We know them for what, six months now? We know them, theyre our friends. We are finally going to meet and work with them. Theres no need to be scared.”
Jisung was right.
They werent strangers.
"Im really excited to see Changbin. That man is a genius," Chan praised his internet friend.
How they met wasnt really anything special. Chan just happened to scroll through instagram, seeing one of his mutuals follow Changbin, talking about how thankful he is to be promoting their newest work.
Chan checked Changbins page out. And was immediatly amazed.
Changbin was also a producer of a small group of 4.
The male never showed shame to slide in his dms, complimenting Changbin for his amazing work.
And thats how they met.
Talking about music from day until night, they eventually started to work on tracks together.
Which finally lead them to see each other after 6 months of working together.
"Im excited to see them all," Jisung added.
"There were two people we havent met even online though, right?" Chan asked.
Jisung nodded. "Yep, We heard them, but didnt get to see them yet. Cant wait."
Bangchan pulled out his phone, opening instagram. "I think Changbin posted a pic recently with them,” he said, scrolling through Changbins page.
“Oh my god, that guy looks so cute,” Bangchan said, zooming on the blonde guy, face covered in freckles and his smile brighter than the sun.
“Damn, and the other one looks… intimidating,” Jisungs eyes widened slightly, grabbing Chans phone out of his hand to see if theres more.
“Wait, whos the girl?” Jisung asked, showing Chan the photo on his phone.
Chan looked confused, since he has never seen the girl before. But on the picture Changbin looked very close with the female.
“Friends, I guess? He would’ve introduced us to her if she was in their group as well.”
Whilst Chan and Jisung were scrolling through Chabgbins Instagram page, Hyunjin took his time to get out his sketchbook again.
He took every chance he could to spend time trying to perfect his drawings, yet he was never ever satisfied.
“Your book is going to be full again if you keep redrawing, Hyunjin…” Jisung interrupted him, making him sigh.
“Is it still about the dream?” Chan asked.
Hyunjin was embarrassed. Because it was still about the dream. It has always been ever since the dream.
“I just cant get myself to like it. Its never the way I saw it,” Hyunjin sighed, closing his book.
“Maybe if you’d actually show us what you’re drawing all the time, we could help.”
But Hyunjin never showed them. Even he thought its weird that hes obsessing over that, so what would his friends think if they see him draw him a girl 100 times a day.
“I want to show you guys when im fully comfortable with my work,” he explained, which he said everytime.
And his friends respected that.
“Are you drawing us maybe? A little gift?” Jisung pouted, making Chan giggle and hitting him on his shoulder.
“Yeah yeah,” Hyunjin laughed. “Sure Jisung.”
The rest of the night the three guys took their time to get back into work, being in their full element of doing their thing.
“You two better at least today get some sleep. We need to be fit and presentable tomorrow,” Jisung yawned, slowly making his way to the door, to his room.
“We’ll try,” Chan smiled, waving his friends off.
When it was just the two, Chan stretched himself, walking towards the blonde male. “You’re ready to sleep?”
Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders. “I have to try, but before that i will clean my room a bit.”
“Good, then go, ill finish up some work and will head to bed as well.”
Which was a lie.
Chan cant sleep, hes been struggling with insomnia since forever, yet his friends still encouraged him to try, though it was helpless.
Hyunjin on the other hand, was just a night owl. He loved sleeping, but also enjoyed the silence, peaceful nights.
So the second he plopped on his bed again, he took out his sketchbook.
Flipping through the pages, he took his time to observe and focus on the details.
Her eyes.
Her eyes stood out the most, her eyes were the first thing he noticed and the last thing he remembers.
So why, why cant he draw them just like he has them in mind?
He shook his head, closing the book. He knew if he goes into grabbing is pencil, hed not stop until its daylight.
Hyunjin wasnt a perfectionist, yet he wanted the girl of his dreams to look perfect, just like he remembered her.
He hopes, he wishes and prays to see her just once. This one more time.
And it looked like his prayers didnt work out once again, since he groaned with a stretch, turning off his alarm clock.
But its fine.
Thats what he always tells himself after waking up.
At least today, he tried not to think about it too much.
Today was all about meeting the other boygroup.
What do you wear when you’re first meeting up with people?
Though Changbin and his friends saw each other at their most comfortable state, in nothing but joggers, oversized pyjamas, he still wanted to look good, to at least have a good first impression in real life.
Everyone admired Hyunjin for his sense of fashion. He enjoyed simple things, yet his style was far from simple.
Even if he doesnt try to be stylish, and just puts on whatever, he always manages to style any outfit.
Today was all about black pants with a white buttoned shirt. He decided to keep his hair in a side part, and finished himself up with some perfume.
“We’re going to meet our friends, not a royal Family,” Jisung dropped, after Hyunjin entered the living room.
He stopped and looked down at himself, “Too much?”
With a “yes” from Jisung and an “Only if you’re next to us which is always the case” from Chan, Hyunjin decided to leave it on.
And just like that, they sat at their place in the diner again, waiting for his friends to arrive. It might take awhile, but they werent sure for how long.
“If they take any longer im going to fall asleep,” Jisung sighed, dropping his head on the table.
“Im sure theyll be here soon,” Chan said, starting to lose patience too.
“Ill just go to the toilet,” Hyunjin said, and as he was about to get up, Chan grabbed him.
“But they could be here any minute.”
Hyunjin sighed. “You said the same thing ten minutes ago, itll be fine and im quick.”
Hyunjin went to the bathroom with his head tilted down. He was so upset with himself. Washing his hands he looked up to his reflection in the mirror.
He hated it.
He hated how obvious it was that he's not in the best mood. He doesn't remember the last time he looked cheerful or actually enjoyed doing something.
Even his most favourite activity was pressuring him, so he couldn't even enjoy what he loved doing most.
He kept repeating in his head that he got this, trying to cheer himself up with a sad smile on his face.
He didnt even understand why that dream was affecting him that drastically. And the fact he has no other drives him even more insane.
Trying to shake the overthinking off, he walked back to their table, where he stopped walking midway, when he saw that the new people arrived already.
He didnt realize how long it has been since he last met new people. He was praying his first impression wouldn't be a complete disaster.
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kirishoshego · 3 years
Text
Confidental Composition//Bakugo
!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!
This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).
Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)
TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise
„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“
A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.
Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.
At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.
Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.
„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.
„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.
It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.
„Dear Professor,
down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.
Have a nice week,
Y/N Y/L/N“
Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.
X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.
„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.
As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.
Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.
Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.
Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.
Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.
It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“
You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.
„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.
„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.
„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.
„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.
„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.
„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.
„Yes sir,“ another one.
„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.
„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.
You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.
A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.
„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.
„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.
Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.
„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.
Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.
„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.
„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.
„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.
„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.
„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.
„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.
It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.
„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“
860 notes · View notes
alluringjae · 3 years
Text
it’s a royal order - jjh
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⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 2k
⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)
⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language
⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett
⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!
i need holy water because of this piece.
⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu
⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!
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“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.
Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.
Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.
This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.
Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.
This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.
In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).
One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.
Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.
Oh, how time flies.
This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.
Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.
“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.
“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.
“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”
You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.
“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.
“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.
“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.
“My princess,”
Kiss.
“So intelligent,”
Kiss.
“So benevolent,”
Kiss.
“So helpful,”
Kiss.
“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.
“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.
“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.
All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.
All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.
Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.
“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.
“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.
“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,
“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  
“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.
In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.
Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.
Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.
Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.
Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.
“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”
You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”
Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”
Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.
Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.
“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”
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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years
Text
Tolerate It
Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader
Category: fluff/angst
Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy
Word Count: 3200+
Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life). 
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You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.
After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now. 
Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.
The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door. 
Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd. 
You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue. 
You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him. 
His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him.  Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain. 
You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.
To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you. 
The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened. 
“Are you okay?” 
You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child. 
It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought. 
“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.”  Again, a small laugh left his lips. 
“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”
“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him. 
“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression. 
He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”
Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”
That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.
You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him. 
So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him.  You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you. 
So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks. 
“You’re staring.” 
Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.
“I’m basking in your presence.” 
If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.
There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you. 
“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”
His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files. 
When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back. 
“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.” 
Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness. 
“I’ll be up soon.”
You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files. 
You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night. 
You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed. 
--
You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see. 
You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you. 
“You’re staring again.” 
The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.  
“I’m still basking in your presence.”
You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau. 
You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago. 
His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed. 
After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance. 
“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.” 
The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel. 
The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom. 
--
While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero. 
Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous. 
--
Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him. 
When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek. 
Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs. 
“I kept dinner warm for you.”
Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.
“I actually ate with the team tonight.”
His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual. 
“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”
You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork. 
He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away. 
You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time. 
When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk. 
You watched, noticing everything you could. 
--
Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work. 
It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories. 
The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home. 
He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.
He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working. 
You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now? 
You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap. 
“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie.  Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.
“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows. 
“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face. 
Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him. 
“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes. 
“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing. 
“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.” 
Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply. 
“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”
Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life. 
“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him. 
“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs. 
You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”
“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you. 
permanent tag list:
@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain
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theresthesnitch · 3 years
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October 31, 2021
Dearest Readers, 
This is the last entry in our series, and the last entry in Lily’s diary. We sincerely appreciate your attention to this piece, and we have shared your letters and notes with the Potter Family. They have expressed their gratitude for your sympathy and kind thoughts. 
Today, on the fortieth anniversary of James and Lily Potter’s death, we remember the brave sacrifice that they made for Harry, and ultimately for all of the wizarding world, and the young lives that were lost on that fateful day. 
Thank you, James and Lily, for your sacrifice. We are eternally grateful and endlessly sorry that it had to end this way. 
Sincerely, 
Gerald R. Abbott
Editor
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October 31, 1981
I love Halloween. There’s just something magical in the air. The muggle version of something magical, of course. Like anticipation or expectancy. There’s something coming. Something big. 
Maybe it’s just because it was always the halfway point in the semester. Or maybe it’s just the way everything has turned from the greens of summary to the browns and golds of fall. Maybe it’s the way everyone celebrates. 
I don’t know exactly, but Halloween has always felt magical, even before I knew that magic really existed in the world. 
Continue reading on page 6. 
James and I spent a while this morning going through the old photo albums of Harry’s first year. I’m so glad that we have so many pictures. The year was hard, between the war and being new parents. It could have easily turned out that we didn’t have any pictures of Harry. 
The pictures are such a lovely reminder of when things were happy, even in this dark war. There’s one thing that is similar between all of the pictures: Harry. 
He’s such a little bundle of joy and light. The picture of his first steps doesn't show Sirius patching up Remus in the background after a bad mission, it just shows Harry and the absolute joy on James’s face as Harry placed one foot in front of the next. 
The picture of the night Harry crawled across the living room chasing the cat doesn’t show that James had his arm in a sling following an injury that had him out of Order work for six weeks. Instead, we see that silly cat pressing away and Harry trailing behind. I can practically feel Harry’s giggle as he follows. 
The picture of me dancing with Harry in the kitchen doesn’t show that we just found out that Marlene was dead. Instead, it shows his sweet little head tucked against my neck, and a lock of my hair curled in his chubby little hand. 
Harry’s first tooth pictures hides the worry in the air before Remus left on his longest mission--more than 4 months without word from him. Harry’s first smile picture doesn’t show the night that Peter showed up in tears unable to tell us what happened. The picture of Harry chewing on the end of his broomstick doesn’t show Sirius grimacing from the Skelegrow and from the mistreatment of his present. 
We have the happy memories of this time, even with the horrible ones. We have been so incredibly lucky, and in the same moment, so incredibly broken. We’ve had good and bad. We’ve had ups and downs. Having a baby was not the worst thing that could have happened to us during a war. He has been our light and our life in this darkness. 
We put Harry down for a nap, and James and I were finally able to really discuss what this would mean. We’re having a baby. A perfect, beautiful little baby. Maybe the little Snitch will be the light that gets us through the next bit of darkness.  
We are going to have to figure out how to fight. I don’t know what fighting looks like when we are locked in this little house, but we owe it to the little Snitch. We owe it to Harry. And more than anything, we owe it to ourselves too. 
I’m not willing to give up a whole life of watching our baby grow. Our two perfect, beautiful, little babies. 
Harry is waking up, so I have to end this for now. James and I are going to share our favorite Halloween traditions with him tonight. And tomorrow? Tomorrow we will figure out how to keep fighting. For our friends. For Harry. For our little Snitch. For all of the tomorrows we still have yet to come. 
Happy Halloween
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kn1feinthec0ffee · 3 years
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new love - spencer reid
spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: spencer tells the team about his new girlfriend, y/n.
warnings: fluff in its purest form.
word count: 1503
notes: IM BACK!!! i know it’s been a little while since i posted anything but i actually had the time (and motivation) to write this and i think it’s rlly cute!!
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********************
spencer gazed down at you as you slept, adoration filling his eyes.
last night was the first night you had slept over at his place. he wasn’t really against the idea, other than the fact that you’d wake up alone in his bed. he wished he could stay and cuddle you longer, but unfortunately serial killers had a habit of killing innocent people. it was spencer’s duty to prevent that, and well - duty calls.
spencer couldn’t seem to spur his legs into action, the image of you still asleep and curled up under his covers was one too precious to walk away from. you were spread out on your stomach, your hair sprawled out across the pillow underneath your head, your hands softly grasping the comforter.
spencer found himself immensely grateful for his eidetic memory so that he could never forget how adorable you looked.
in lieu of fully rousing you to say goodbye, he decided on placing a kiss on your forehead. the whimper that the small action elicited from you made his heart clench - and made it that much tougher to leave you.
spencer quickly found some spare notepaper and scribbled a note for you encouraging to call or text if you felt lonely, his chicken scratch hardly legible in his haste.
——————————
as he sat on the train that morning, he couldn’t help but realize that everything just seemed so much better now that you were a permanent fixture in spencer’s life. it was as if his life were a coloring page that had suddenly been filled in with the most vibrant of markers - as cliche as that sounds.
the inconveniences that plagued him almost daily now seemed like nothing - for example, the embarrassing half-jog-half-sprint he had to do in order to make it onto the train in time. spencer felt like he had a new outlook on life, and it was all owed to you.
spencer arrived at work, walking into the bullpen with a noticeable pep in his step as he made his way over to his desk. he set down his satchel, only to glance up and find morgan and jj staring at him.
“do i have something on my face?” he frowned, wiping at his face to ensure there was nothing there.
“you didn’t head to the coffee machine straight away,” morgan pointed out, swiveling his chair to face him.
“i, uh, don’t feel like i need it?” spencer’s brows knit in utter confusion at the sudden interrogation he found himself a part of.
“you always get a cup of coffee in the morning, spence, regardless of whether or not we’ve got a case.” jj chimed in.
“and?” he wasn’t quite sure what the point of all this was.
“do you mean to tell us the doctor actually got a decent amount of sleep last night?” derek scoffed.
“i suppose so. is that an issue?” spencer cocked his head, much like a puppy dog.
“no, it’s not an issue at all, it’s just unusual for you.” jj shared a look with morgan, who stood up from his chair to saunter over to the doctor’s desk.
“so who’s the lucky girl, pretty boy?” he grinned.
the heat instantaneously rose to spencer’s cheeks at his words. “wh-what? what girl? i have no clue what you’re talking about!”
“come on, spence, you don’t expect us to realize the way you walked into work with a grin on your face? that hardly ever happens before you’ve gotten any caffeine in you, which - if you’ll remember correctly - you didn’t even have this morning.” jj grinned at the blushing boy.
“come on, that’s no fair! you guys know we’re not supposed to profile each other!” he practically whined, crossing his arms over his chest.
“ooh, who’s profiling who?” penelope said as she scurried towards the trio. “woah - boy wonder you are glowing. what are you hiding from me?”
before he could stop him from answering, derek spoke. “we think pretty ricky’s got a girlfriend.”
a sudden expression of pure joy made its way onto the analyst’s face as a smile lit up her face. “please, please tell me he’s right!”
spencer weighed his options carefully. the two of you were relatively new, and he didn’t want to spoil anything by telling his friends about you so soon. but on the other hand, every time he’d brought them up, you’d mentioned how much you’d love to meet them all one day. so he figured, what would be the harm in telling them?
“yeah. i do have one. a girlfriend, that is.” he spoke awkwardly.
penelope practically squealed as she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “i’m so happy for you! but spencer reid, how could you hide this from us? but i need to know absolutely every last detail!”
the way she flipped from excitedness to borderline anger left spencer feeling a little frazzled, but nonetheless happy to share. “her name is y/n, and she works in the bookstore downtown. that’s actually where we met.”
“y/n reid really has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” penelope exclaimed, clasping her hands together.
derek noticed how flustered spencer was becoming with all the sudden attention on both him and his love life and opted to pull her back slightly. “alright, let’s reign it in, babygirl. he only just mentioned her, i’m sure they’re not getting hitched any time soon.”
he sent derek a thankful look before continuing. “we’ve only been dating for a month now, i don’t think either of us are ready for that yet,” he laughed nervously.
“what’s she like?” jj asked, perching on the edge of his desk.
“i can’t even - i don’t even have the words to articulate how wonderful she is,” spencer sighed dreamily. “she’s just so kind and loving and funny and so, so beautiful.”
morgan and jj exchanged a knowing look, while penelope looked like a child who had finally gotten the pony she kept asking for.
“y/n’s one lucky girl,” she grinned a toothy grin. “speaking of y/n, when might the lucky lady like to meet us? please tell me she wants to meet us.”
“she actually really wants to meet you guys, she-“ spencer was cut off as garcia whisked him away to arrange a date with the whole team.
before she could get too far, morgan grabbed him by the arm. “seriously kid, i’m happy for you. she seems like she makes you really happy.”
spencer could only offer a quick ‘thanks’ in response before garcia dragged him all the way to her cave to plan.
——————————
“you’re home!” spencer heard you shout as he stepped past the door. he braced for impact as you practically launched yourself into his arms. “how was your day, baby?”
he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as you pulled away. “it was good, just a paperwork day, but i didn’t get much done - except for one thing.”
“and what was that?” you quirked a brow at his odd statement.
“i might’ve told the team about us,” he grew slightly panicked as he noticed the shocked expression on your face. “i-i hope that’s okay with you. i know i didn’t ask, but i-“
you took his hands in yours, gently thumbing over his knuckles. “it’s fine by me, i just wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with it, spence.”
his heart skipped a beat at your thoughtfulness, pressing a kiss to your hands. “i don’t know, i guess in that moment, any doubt in my mind went away. n-not that there was any to begin with!”
you stepped up to place a chaste kiss to his lips, silencing his clarifications. “it’s okay, i think it’s sweet. so, what’d they say?”
“they were really happy for me, and i think garcia nearly burst a blood vessel when i told her.” the two of you giggled. “they kept saying how lucky you were, but i couldn’t help but think that i’m the lucky one.”
“oh they’re absolutely right there. i am the lucky one. how else could i have ended up with such a catch like you?” you smirked at the growing blush on your boyfriend’s cheeks.
“after i told them about you, garcia dragged me away to go plan a date for you to meet them, a-and i told her this friday would be fine, so i hope that’s okay with you.” spencer admitted, looking down at you hopefully.
“spence? are you kidding?” you beamed, clasping your hands together in excitement. “i can hardly wait!” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for your lips to meet.
his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumbing softly over your cheekbone as he smiled into the kiss. when you finally pulled away, you motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen for dinner.
as you practically skipped away, all spencer could think about was how incredibly thrilled he was to have met you. he wondered if maybe his teammates were right: you were both the lucky ones.
********************
i LOVE how this turn out and i put a lot of thought into this and actually had some friends read over it before i posted it so i hope u guys love it too 😊
as usual i’m tagging ppl on my taglist & ppl who i think might be interested :)
tags: @sojournmichael @stinkyelf @crazyfore3 @cal-ifornication @eggygorl02 @howdycharlie @eosprincess @mortallythoughtfulgurl @illuxions-x @unlikelyempathpruneauthor @blankets-for-bees @holycandypizza @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @lovelyrdjr @elitereid @minnie-bby @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @fantastic-fans @keomoon @elric8097 @jjtheangel @spacedikut @whoreforthebau @angelbunnyoxo @theonewithcriminalminds @andiebeaword @big-galaxy-chaos @beatleszeppelin @averyhotchner @dreatine @you-sunshine
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farfromtommy · 3 years
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All I Need Is You
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PLEASE READ WARNINGS AND AUTHORS NOTE
THIS PIECE CONTAINS POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT FOR READERS
word count: approx. 6800
warnings: TW: talk of miscarriage there is talk of blood if is an uncomfortable topic for you please please do not read. it is not graphic and not in extreme detail but it is there, angst, language, talk of sex and unprotected sex (no smut but it gets a lil spicy), childbirth and breastfeeding, fluffly fluff throughout 
summary: tom wants kids, y/n doesn’t, but that’s okay. but after the birth of their godson and after meeting y/n’s best friend’s new baby, something changed.
a/n: this story does contain mild descriptions of blood and miscarriage, but is not the main plot to the story. i have never gone through one personally, but i did research and used some prior knowledge while writing this. please know that i mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone who has had a miscarriage or been affected in any way. if this story offends anyone in anyway, please let me know and i will take it down. this is all a work of fiction. this does contain possible triggering content and i will be putting a warning during the part and after. i will be linking some resources available for anyone who has had a miscarriage or is being affected by one in anyway. you are not alone. 
The topic of kids and when you were going to have them was not unfamiliar to you and Tom. You had been together since you were both 18 and now engaged at 23. You and Tom have been giving people the same answers whenever they asked when you were having kids for years. “We’re not ready to have kids yet” or “It’s not a priority for us at the moment”
You knew Tom had had an itch of baby fever for a while and he had expressed his desire to become a father in the future, but only when you’re ready to become a mother, but you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be.
About 6 months after your engagement, his parents had managed to get everyone under the same roof at the same time for dinner and had bombarded you with comments and questions about when they were to expect a grandbaby. They had been hearing your reasons for not having had kids yet for years and weren’t accepting those answers anymore. Tom told them that you were both focusing on planning the wedding and would visit the topic after if the timing was right.
The timing would never be right, Tom felt. He had asked you a few times about the possibility of having a baby in the future and he only ever managed to get short answers out of you and then the topic was dismissed. Harry and Sam asked him about it privately and Tom expressed his concerns to them about your seeming lack of interest in even having a conversation about it. They encouraged him to sit you down and talk it out like adults. With the wedding planning starting to pick up, he knew this conversation had to happen to make sure you were both on the same page.
~~~
After his conversation with his brothers, Tom had finally worked up the courage to approach you about the baby talk and was going to put his foot down and not let you dismiss it.
“Darling, can we talk about something?” Tom asked one night as you were pulling back the sheets to get into bed. You had crawled onto your side of the bed and set your phone on the nightstand to give him your undivided attention.
“Yeah, baby, of course. What’s on your mind?” You said softly, leaning back against the headboard. Tom sat across from you on the foot of the bed with his legs crossed, leaning back on his hands. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts before speaking.
“We have talked briefly about this a few times before, but we’ve never sat down and talked about it, and I think it's past time we did. Do you want kids?” He asked bluntly and looked you in the eyes. He saw your demeanor change just slightly when your eyes widened a bit. You looked down at your hands and wrung them nervously trying to find your words.
“I know I keep avoiding the topic, and I’m sorry. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think so. I’ve never been able to see myself as a mother and having a big family and all that. I thought that maybe when we got engaged and bought this house that I would change my mind and feel different, but I don’t.” You whispered the last part and kept your eyes on your hands.
“I’m so so sorry, Tom. I know that you want a family and kids but I don’t know if I can do it. Everything about pregnancy and becoming a mother scares the ever-loving shit out of me and I send myself into a panic attack at the thought. That’s why I’m so dismissive about it. I’m sorry. If you want to leave, I understand.” You let the tears fall down your face, trying to keep your voice even.
You felt the bed shift a little and you shut your eyes to keep the tears back, assuming Tom was getting up to leave. You flinched when you felt his hand on your face and his lips on the top of your head. You felt him press his body against your side and you leaned against him and let a few tears fall.
“Y/N, darling, listen to me. It’s okay, my love. I’m not mad or upset with you at all, and I’m not going to leave you. You don’t have to change your mind or feel differently about kids if that’s how you feel. I didn’t propose to you just so we could have babies, I’m marrying you to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm okay with it just being us. I just want to spend every day of my life loving you, that’s enough for me. I don’t need anything or anyone else to make me happy. All I need is you.” Tom said to you. He rubbed your back soothingly trying to calm the quiet sobs that were escaping your mouth.
“I don’t want you to hate me in 50 years and look back at all the things I couldn’t give you, or regret not marrying someone who would’ve given you kids.” You whispered into his chest.
“I’m never going to regret marrying you, I promise you that. In 50 years we’ll look back at the most amazing life we had together and cherish all the memories we made, not look back and think of what could’ve been.” He cupped your cheeks in his hand and wiped the thick tears falling down your face.
He was able to get you to calm down after a few minutes and crawled under the sheets with you. He laid down on his back and pulled you close to him with your head on his chest and one arm wrapped around your shoulders and the other rubbing your arm.
“I love you so much, Tommy. I don’t know what I did in this life to deserve you.” You mumbled against the skin of his bare chest. He kissed the top of your head again and let his cheek rest against it as he whispered ‘I love you so much more’ and pulled you closer.
~~~
Tom managed to get everyone to cool it with the baby talk. You didn’t know what he said to his parents to get them to chill out a bit, but whatever he said worked. With the weight lifted off of both your shoulders, the wedding was the only thing on your mind.
It couldn’t have gone more perfectly. The day you and Tom had been planning for almost a year and the day you had been waiting for, honestly, since the day you met him. He looked incredible in his crisp black tux with his brothers and best friend standing right next to him.
The ceremony had everyone, including you and Tom, in tears. From the words the officiant spoke to the vows that were exchanged and then the moment you were pronounced man and wife, there was not one dry eye. After all the emotions you felt after the ceremony, you were beyond excited to celebrate with friends and family at the reception.
You sat at the table reserved for you and Tom and all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen just watching the joy bubble out of everyone in front of you. Tom was standing on the edge of the dance floor with a beer in his hand talking to a few of the people he had worked with over the years and that he hadn’t had a chance to catch up with. You were nursing a glass of champagne while you talked to one of your bridesmaids about the honeymoon you were leaving for in a few days.
One of Tom’s cousins had approached you and sat in a chair next to you to share her excitement with you over the whole day. Her husband had approached her with their 7-month-old son, Lucas, saying that he was getting a bit fussy. She gladly took her son and rested him in her lap, letting him play with the jewelry on her wrists and fingers.
Lucas had started to get a bit antsy again and Tom’s cousin had started to get up in search of her husband to try and get a bottle for the little boy. You had offered to hold him while she looked for him and try to keep him happy and occupied in the meantime. She graciously passed him over to you and you assured her that it was no problem.
He was a little distressed at the sight of his mother walking away, so you stood up and held him close to you as you walked around and talked to him a bit. He distracted himself with the necklace resting on your neck and wrapped his tiny fingers around it and stuck it in his mouth. You laughed to yourself at the boy and kept whispering things to him. One of your friends had approached you and pointed out how content Lucas seemed in your arms. She stood there with you making noises and faces at the boy to make him laugh and he responded to it with a gummy smile and buried his face in your chest.
Tom had been wrapped up in a conversation with his friends and hadn’t noticed you standing with the baby in your arms. Nikki walked up behind him and rested her hand on Tom’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. Tom quickly excused himself from his friends and let his mom pull him away. She turned him so he was facing you and got close and pointed to you standing with his cousin, with the laughing baby in your arms.
“She’s really good with him. I don’t think that little boy has ever been that happy in the arms of anyone besides his mother. Look at the smiles on both of their faces.” Nikki said fondly, watching you interact with the baby. Tom mumbled a quiet ‘Yeah, she is’ and kept his eyes glued on you. Your smile and laugh were infectious and he found himself mirroring the joy you had plastered on your face.
“I didn’t want kids when your dad and I first met. It wasn’t until right before we got married that I had told him that I wanted to have a family with him. Let her bring it up to you and if she decides it's something she wants, she’ll let you know.” She looked over at Tom to see him looking at you like you hung the moon and stars.
Tom quickly set his beer down and made his way over to you. He greeted his cousin and hugged her before taking his spot next to you. His hand went to your lower back while he gave the other to Lucas. Tom wiggled his fingers which elicited a laugh from the baby, making you smile and laugh. He stood there for a few minutes chatting with his cousin and her husband about the baby and how he was taken with you.
Lucas ended up falling asleep in your arms with his head resting in the crook of your neck and his fingers wrapped around your necklace. You were sad to let go of Lucas but admired the way the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile when you passed him over to his father. You bid your goodbyes to the baby and his parents and grabbed Tom’s hand to pull him into a kiss.
~~~
After a year or so of being married, Tom had started to notice something different about you. He had picked up on the way you walked a little slower past the baby section whenever you went to the store together and always pointed out what you thought was exceptionally adorable. He noticed the way you looked longingly at the toddlers running around the park when you would take Tessa on walks together. When your best friend from university had brought her newborn daughter around to your place was when everything had finally started to click, for both of you.
The words Nikki had said to him at the wedding echoed in his mind. He needed to let you come to him about it. The last thing he wanted was to pressure you into talking about something you weren’t ready for.
“I’m so happy for Megan. She’s been dreaming about having a daughter, I swear since I met her. She was always talking about how badly she wanted to be a mom and couldn’t wait to have kids.” You said to Tom once you had both crawled into bed. He rested against the headboard with his laptop resting on his thighs. He looked over at you when you pulled back the comforter and got into bed next to him.
“She seems happy. Even when she was talking about not having gotten a wink of sleep in the past 3 weeks, she said it with a smile and love.” Tom chuckled to himself, turning his attention back to what he was working on. You hummed in agreement and grabbed the book off your nightstand. You found yourself unable to focus on the words in front of you and kept rereading the same few words over and over again.
Your mind kept going back to the afternoon you spent with Megan and her daughter and how happy you were to see your friend so happy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been imagining you and Tom with that sort of happiness. The past year has been the best in your life. Tom had been traveling so much for work and you went with him wherever he went. Traveling the world and seeing your husband live his dream made you happy beyond belief. But you still felt like there was something more that you longed for.
“Oh, I don’t think I told you. My cousin sent me a message earlier today, she’s pregnant again! I think she said she’s about 20 weeks and having a gender reveal next week, and wants us to be there. I told her I’d talk to you about it.” Tom said while he opened up his messages and let you read the texts for yourself.
“Wow! That’s so amazing. Lucas is gonna be a great big brother. I don’t think we have anything going on, we should definitely go.” You handed Tom’s phone back to him and pulled yours out to send her a message.
A twinge of jealousy panged in your gut. Why did you feel like this? You had never felt jealous of your friends and family when they had gotten pregnant before. It was only good news whenever you found out. Did you wish it was you? Maybe this was your heart telling you that this was something you wanted. Maybe-
“Darling? You okay?” Tom’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your eyes focused on your phone in your hand. You looked over at Tom and saw the concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. I got lost in thought for a second, I guess.” You brushed it off and kept typing the message. 
~~~
You stared at the positive pregnancy tests with a mix of emotions. One part of you was freaking out at the thought of being pregnant. All the fears you had about pregnancy and motherhood rearing their ugly heads right at the front of your mind. It wasn’t just an ‘IF I got pregnant’ fear, it was an ‘oh my god I’m pregnant and it’s going to happen’ fear. It wasn’t just imagining what would happen anymore, it was actually happening.
The other part of you felt an indescribable amount of joy and excitement. Your mind immediately went to Tom and how over the moon he would be at the news. Imagining what a perfect father he would be to your baby had your heart bursting and your whole body buzzing. He’s the most perfect person to raise a child with.
The fears of parenthood and of becoming a mother tried to cloud your mind again, but you were too excited about telling Tom to care. A few minutes later you walked into the living room with the tests in your hand, looking for Tom. You heard him in the kitchen fixing up some lunch and singing along to the music coming out of his phone.
“Darling what do you want on your sandwich? I’ve got the things you usually take, you just want everything?” Tom said when he heard your footsteps from down the hall get closer to where he was.
“Yeah, everything is good. Um, I need to tell you something though, before we eat.” Tom’s head looked up at you, his eyes filled with worry and a bit of curiosity. He set down the knife he had in his hand and leaned against the counter, waiting for you to talk.
“Uh so. The past couple of weeks or so I’ve been feeling super off and just really not like myself. I think I mentioned to you that I was feeling weird and we chalked it off as maybe I was getting sick or my period was just gonna hit like a bitch this month.” You looked down at the stick in your hand and looked back up at Tom, his eyes not having left your face. “I- I, uh, I went to log my symptoms into my period tracking app and when I did, it said that my period was almost a week late and that even though there were a bunch of possible causes… the one that stood out was pregnancy.” You looked back up at Tom and his eyebrows were furrowed and you could see the worry lines across his forehead.
“Y/N?” He whispered as he stepped closer to you and placed a hand on your hip, quietly urging you to continue. You took a deep breath and opened up your hand to show him the white and blue stick resting in your palm.
“I’m pregnant, Tommy. I got a couple of tests this morning while you were at the gym and I just took them. They’re all positive.” He carefully picked up the plastic stick like it was made of glass and looked at the little screen with the words ‘pregnant’ across it. You felt the emotion well up in your chest when he brought his hand up to his mouth and heard him choke back a breath.
“Oh my god. You’re not messing with me, right? This is for real?” He looked up at you with tears pooling in his lower lash line. All you could do was muster up a nod before the tears fell from both of your eyes.
Tom wrapped his arms around you and lifted you slightly off the ground, twirling you around the kitchen while he laughed and cried in joy. You giggled at his actions and kept your arms wrapped around his neck, the tears still falling from your eyes. He set you down after a few moments passed and cupped your face in his hands. He saw the emotions written all across your face, all he could see was happiness and excitement.
“This is a good thing, right?” he wiped a few stray tears off of your cheeks with his thumbs and tilted his head a little bit.
“Yeah, this is a really good thing. I know my feelings were different before but I don’t know, I guess something changed.” You smiled a bit thinking back on the last couple of months of feeling like this.
It had started with your friend from college introducing you to her daughter and asking you and Tom to babysit when she needed one. When Tom’s cousin had their 2nd son, they had asked you and Tom to be the godparents to baby James. You and Tom were over the moon excited to accept and to be there for the christening of your godson.
Tom couldn’t find the words to say and just pulled you in for another bone-breaking hug. You stood in the kitchen with him, your lunch long forgotten, just hugging each other. You could feel the love pour out from your bodies and to each other, everything was as perfect as it could be.
You set up an appointment with your gynecologist as soon as you could, anxious to confirm your pregnancy with them and maybe be able to see the beginning stages of your little one growing in your tummy. Tom had insisted he take a day off of work to go with you. He had declared that he was not going to let work or anything get in the way of him supporting you through this.
He had heard so many stories from people he’s worked with about them missing the birth of their children because of work and strict filming schedules. Or that their spouse has been left at home the entire pregnancy, sometimes with other children too, and they were only able to get a week off for the birth and then head back to work.
Tom swore to you before you got married that he would never prioritize work over his life with you. He had never missed spending a birthday, an anniversary, or a holiday with you. He sure as hell wasn’t about to miss witnessing the miracle of your pregnancy.
The appointment went as perfectly and smoothly as it could’ve gone. You were still in the very early stages of your first trimester, only about 7 weeks pregnant. Your doctor had said that it was possible to hear the heartbeat already and spent a little time searching for it. 
After a few seconds had passed a whooshing sound had filled the room and the doctor smiled at you when your eyes shot over to Tom. He had wrapped one of your hands in both of his and kissed your knuckles, letting tears slip out at the sound of his baby’s heartbeat. 
There wasn’t much to see on the sonogram. Your doctor had pointed out the grainy blob on the picture that was indeed your baby. You couldn’t stop staring at the little grey blob that was changing your life.
“So I think we should hold off on telling everyone until I’m a little farther along, you know, just in case. The nurse said miscarriages are common during the first trimester and we gotta be really careful. I’m okay with telling your mom, I think it’ll be good to have her support and be able to ask her things. But we should hold off on a big announcement until I’m at least 16 weeks.” You said in the car on your way back home after the appointment.
“Yeah of course. Dad is taking me and the boys golfing next week, so mum will probably ask you to lunch or something. You can tell her then or we can do it together another day, whatever you prefer. You’re the boss, mummy. Whatever you say, goes.” He quickly glanced over at you with a big smile on his face before putting his eyes back on the road. 
Your face split into a huge grin at the name before placing your hands on your stomach. Tom rested one of his hands on top of yours and kept it there the whole way home.
~~~
*SENSITIVE CONTENT AHEAD*
No one could have warned you about the overwhelming heartache you could feel during pregnancy. You thought it would be smooth sailing into your second trimester and you’d finally be able to share with everyone the joy of a new baby coming into the world.
Your doctor had made you aware of the possibility of having a miscarriage at the beginning of your pregnancy, not to scare you, but just so you were aware. 10-15% of all pregnancies resulted in miscarriages, 80% of them happening in the first trimester due to a multitude of reasons. She said to take care of yourself and to do everything in your power to keep yourself and your baby as healthy as could be.
You had done everything by the books.
You ate a well-balanced diet, cutting out everything your doctor had advised you to avoid. You had started joining Tom at the gym more regularly and did a bit of yoga at home, just to keep yourself in shape, but never overexerting yourself. Cutting out alcohol had been a no brainer, even Tom said he wouldn’t drink if you couldn’t. You, unfortunately, had to cut down majorly on your caffeine intake, which left you irritable and cranky most mornings. But it was all for the wellbeing of your baby, which made it all oh so worth it.
Nikki found out about your pregnancy when she had asked you to lunch while the Holland boys were golfing for the day. You had shown her the sonogram and she gasped in shock at the picture in front of her. Your name was printed across the top of it, so she knew it was yours. She had been sworn to secrecy when you told her that only you, her, and Tom knew and that you were keeping it a secret until about 16 weeks.
She was the first person you called when you were sitting at home by yourself when you had started to feel a cramping sort of pain along your abdomen and stretching into your back. Your doctor had said that cramping was normal but if it was accompanied by period-like bleeding, to call immediately. You stretched out a bit on the couch to try and get the pain to pass but when it didn’t, you picked up the phone and called Nikki.
Her tone of voice stayed calm as you explained what you were feeling and where you were feeling it. She had dropped everything and said she’d be there as soon as she could be and to relax, everything was going to be okay. You had advised against her wish of calling Tom, for the time being, he was in the city for meetings and some press events all day and you didn’t want to bother him if it was nothing.
In no more than 20 minutes you were sitting next to her on the couch as you told her in more detail about the discomfort along your abdomen. She had suggested you get up and go to the bathroom just to be sure there wasn’t any bleeding. You gave her a nervous glance and she assured you it was going to be okay, she just wanted to be sure.
Standing up from the couch the pain had started to shift into your pelvis and deepen in your abdomen. You had asked for her to help you to the bathroom and to stay with you, just in case. She said ‘of course’ and led you to the nearest toilet to the living room. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you neared the bathroom, praying that this was nothing and just one of those pregnancy things.
Nikki had respectfully turned around after you unbuttoned your jeans and started to sit. You pulled your underwear down with your pants and took a deep breath before glancing down and seeing the mess on the inside of your underwear. Your heart dropped down to your gut seeing the bright red blood staining the fabric and sticking to the inside of your thighs. A quiet ‘oh no’ left your mouth as you just stared down. Nikki turned around hearing you talk and saw what was happening. She mumbled something you couldn’t hear before she opened the door and headed towards your room.
You could hear the opening and shutting of drawers in the distance and the shuffling of her feet back into the bathroom. She set a pair of fresh underwear and a pair of sweatpants on the counter next to you before opening the cabinets under the sink in search of a pad. She placed everything next to you and asked you to change so she could drive you to the hospital. You nodded slowly and she left the bathroom quietly.
~~~
The next couple of months were difficult, but having the support of Tom made it just a little bit easier. He held you when all you could do was cry and told you that it was going to be okay. He was going to be there every step of the way. He rubbed your back and held you close anytime you needed it and gave you your space when you asked for it.
He made sure to listen to you deeply when you talked about it. He assured you, along with your doctor, that it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done differently to stop this. It was just a freak thing and is unfortunately a common occurrence. He let you air out your frustrations and fears openly and told you that you weren’t alone. He shared some of the same fears that you did and helped you feel not crazy about having these big feelings.
You helped each other begin the process of healing and coming to terms with what had happened. It took time for you both to talk about it without being overwhelmed with grief and sadness, but it happened. You were able to share what had happened with close friends and family and feel okay about sharing your story. The amount of support and love you got from everyone made it that much easier to take another step forward in healing.
You learned that some of the people closest to you had gone through the same pain in the past, but had never shared it. You felt comfort in knowing that you weren’t alone and that your doctor wasn’t saying that miscarriages were common just to make you feel better. People you knew and had deep relationships with had gone through the same thing, it wasn’t just you and Tom. You weren’t alone in your suffering and pain. It was okay to feel sad about the loss of someone you hadn’t met or that wasn’t really a someone yet. It’s okay to grieve and feel the feelings you have about the loss.
Tom and Nikki had had another conversation about you approaching him about having a baby, much like they did on the night of your wedding. It had been almost a year since the miscarriage, and he wanted to know where you stood on having a baby again. He didn’t want to rush or push you at all. Nikki assured him that when you were ready, you would let him know.
You had started to do the slow walk past the baby section in the store again. After the miscarriage, you had avoided it as much as possible. You pointed out cute onesies and toys any time you saw them. The sadness in the longing looks you had at the sight of toddlers in the parks had changed to happiness and joy.
You told him you didn’t want to have sex after you miscarried, and he completely understood. There was no resentment towards you when you would stop a makeout session when it got too heated and he would get up and take care of himself in the bathroom or take a cold shower. About 6 months after, you insisted that he wear a condom and pulled out before he came, even with the condom on. Just to be safe.
Your sex life with Tom had started to spark again and was getting back to how it was before the miscarriage. You were okay if he came inside you, but still with the condom on. That's how it had been until one night you and Tom were enjoying a date night at home together, and both had a little too much wine. You were about a bottle and a half into your favorite red wine, both of you way well on your way to being wine drunk.
Date night had moved from the dining room to the couch after the 2nd bottle of wine was finished. Tom was sitting with his back against the armrest, one leg stretched out in front of him with the other planted on the floor. Your knees were digging into the cushion beneath them on either side of Tom’s leg. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body. His lips attacked yours with pure lust and passion. He pulled back hesitantly before attacking your neck with his mouth, nipping and biting before soothing the abused skin with his tongue.
“Tom, wait.” You breathed out, placing your hands against his chest to push him back. He looked up at you with concern and kiss swollen lips.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you were okay. You pulled back a little to put a little space between you and Tom. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath before talking. 
“No, you didn’t. I just- hold on. I’ve uh, I’ve been thinking a lot the past few week about maybe us trying for another baby.” You managed to get out. The alcohol was making everything a bit fuzzy but gave you the ability to speak your mind.
“Yeah? You’re ready for that?” Tom’s eyes softened as he pushed some of your hair out of your face and rested one of his hands against the side of your neck
“It’s been almost a year, you know? I talked to my gyno at my appointment last week and she said that there’s no reason we can’t try again. It was a freak thing, and there was nothing we could’ve done differently to change what happened. I’m ready if you’re ready. I want to start a family with you, so bad.” Tom couldn’t find the words to respond to your declaration. All he did was smile so hard his cheeks hurt and pull you close to him again.
~~~
“Push Y/N! Just a few more big pushes and your baby will be here.” Your doctor said from the end of the hospital bed you were in. All you could feel was the pain ripping through your whole body because of the human trying to make their way into the world.
You could feel the cold towel pressed against the back of your neck and the tickle of air flowing into your nose. There was a nurse on one side of you pulling one of your legs back and Tom on the other side pulling the other. He had his other hand on top of your head pushing back the strands of hair getting stuck on the sweat of your forehead.
“You’re so close, lovey. I’m so fucking proud of you baby. You’ve got this. You’re so close.” Tom chanted into your ear while pressing small kisses to your temple. All you did was grit your teeth and push as hard as you could.
There was a sudden release of relief from your body, and you felt like the wind was knocked out of your whole body. You collapsed on the pillow behind you and managed to pry your eyes open. In front of you was a baby covered in bodily fluids and screaming their absolute heart out. Your hospital gown was slipped open as the nurses helped situate the baby onto your bare chest. The hands you had gripping the sheets below you flew to the baby’s back and you choked out a sob of relief.
“You did it Y/N, you fucking did it. Oh my god, she’s so perfect, you’re so perfect.” Tom managed to get out before breaking down into tears. He placed a hand on top of the baby’s head, not caring about the mess. You looked over at him and he pressed a kiss right on your lips and rested his forehead against yours before you both looked at the baby on your chest.
The doctor had asked Tom if he wanted to cut the cord and he stumbled over himself to do it. Some of the nurses had cleaned up the baby while she was still resting on your bare skin so you could get a better look at her.
“It’s a girl, Tommy. We have a daughter.” You looked over at Tom. He had pulled his phone out and took the first picture of his wife and daughter together.
“The most perfect girl in the world. Just like her perfect mummy.” Tom said with tears still falling down his face. Your doctor congratulated you and Tom before leaving the room after you were stitched up and okay to get back into a normal position on the bed.
A nurse had taken the baby to the other side of the room to get her cleaned up completely and take her weight and measurements. Tom stood close to make sure his little girl was okay. You watched from your bed with heavy eyes, your whole body begging you to rest after almost 24 hours of labor. After the baby was cleaned up, she had a diaper put on her and wrapped in the regular hospital baby blanket. She was carefully handed to Tom before he made his way back to your bed.
You had gotten as comfortable in the bed as you could and were so grateful for whoever had invented epidurals and pain medication. Tom sat on the edge of the bed and sat shoulder to shoulder with you with a leg resting on the bed and the other keeping him steady on the floor. All he could do was stare at the baby in his arms and think about how surreal this all was.
“Did you send that picture to your parents and the boys?” You whispered so you didn’t disturb her.
“Yeah right after I took it, I haven’t checked to see what they’ve said though. I’m sure they’re going crazy right now.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your temple. You leaned into him and shut your eyes for a second to just take in everything that was happening. Your eyes shot open when you heard a knock on the door and Tom said ‘come in’.
“Hi, Mrs. Holland. I’m Olivia, a lactation consultant. One of the delivery nurses said that you were wanting to breastfeed and sent me in here just to help you out since this is going to be the first time you’re breastfeeding. Mind if I interrupt for just a little bit?” A woman not much older than you came in and moved closer to your bed. Olivia washed her hands before pulling a rolling chair next to your bed. Tom stood up to give you and Olivia the space to do what was necessary.
“Yep, just like that Y/N. That’s perfect. Baby girl Holland seems to be a pro at this, too!” Olivia watched as you positioned the baby at the perfect spot and started to nurse. It took a while to get used to the feeling, but once you did it was the most amazing thing. Tom couldn’t take his eyes off of the magic happening in front of him.
~~~
“She needs a name, Tom. We haven’t named her yet.” You whispered to Tom in the middle of the night after feeding the baby again. The nurses had come in a few times to check up on you but for the most part, were leaving you and Tom to your own devices.
“I like the name Emma.” He whispered back from the cot that was a few feet away from you, the baby in between you. You sat up as best as you could to get a look at the sleeping baby.
“She’d make a good Emma. What about Nicole for her middle name? Pay homage to your mom. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her through all of this.” You said quietly. You didn’t hear a response and looked over to see him with a toothy grin spread across his face.
“You would do that?” Tom sat up and looked at you.
“Of course. You know how much I love her, she’s so important to both of us. Plus I think Emma Nicole Holland has a pretty good ring to it.”
-- 
a few resources available 
about miscarriage and more information available
grief resources
list of articles, books, and web-based resources
postpartum support
support organizations
--
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midnightsconspiracy · 3 years
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Faith Restored
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Faith Restored - @midnightsconspiracy
Summary: When an argument with your husband causes you to walk out, a vendetta against him leads to you being kidnapped. But will Hank find you in time to be reunited with him and your child?
Warnings: Swearing, Violence
Word Count: 2670
Requested: Yes! I got these two requests so decided to combine them into one fic as they were pretty similar, so I hope the people that requested don't mind. :)
"hi!! I’m so happy I found someone that loves hank too. I’ll literally take any fic with him: age gap romance, marriage, having a baby, his enemies taking you and him tearing the city apart to get you back, some combination of all that, I’ll take it all. thank you for your writing!!"
"Hii! I love your fics 💖 could you please write something with hank, like he arguments with his girlfriend about their work, then she’s kidnapped and he gets all worried and asks for forgiveness, if you don’t feel comfortable with that it’s aaaaall goood :) xoxo"
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this fic and I have a few more requests to write so stayed tunes for them. But thank you for your support and keep sending requests in. Also if you've got some free time drop me a message, I'd love to hear from some of you guys!!!
Masterlist
Love. It was a feeling you had refused to believe in. Everyone around you telling you that the one was out there, and it was only a matter of time, but you were convinced that wasn’t true. At one point previously you had believed in it but that only led to a broken heart and weeks of uncontrollable crying, the man you thought was the one, cheating on you only days before your wedding. So how could it be true if the universe had let you suffer that badly? But as cliché as it sounds, that point of view changed completely as soon as you started your new job as a detective in the intelligence unit. From day one you had fallen head over heels for your boss, that hope of love finally returning. It had taken a long time for you to trust him and enter a fully committed relationship as that fear of heartbreak and the large age gap between you loomed over you both initially. Hank had been the best though, taking his time going step by step to make sure you were comfortable with everything, as well as keeping away the judgement from others the best that he could. He understood that feeling himself, still suffering the loss of Camille’s death, scared that you would leave him, but instead of being non-committal, it drove him to love you more, living each day like it was his last.
Now five years later, your relationship was pure bliss. Long gone were the days of doubts and distrust, instead replaced with only contentment and loyalty. Onlookers still judged the unconventional age difference but you had learned to live with it, coming to the conclusion that you loved Hank regardless and that was all that mattered. Only eight months into the relationship he decided that you really were the one for him, and a world in which he didn’t spend the rest of his life with you was one he couldn’t imagine, and so proposed inside his office, the place that started it all. You married shortly after at the courthouse, with only a small guest list, just wanting to be surrounded by your closest friends and family. The unit all in attendance, some crying, others wishing it were them getting married but collectively all ecstatic at the fact their favourite office romance was finally tying the knot. The next couple of months felt like absolute paradise, like you were in some sort of dream never to wake up again. Never a day went by where you didn’t feel the utmost joy and love in your heart, each day was a new adventure with the man that you could finally call your husband. You were on cloud nine thinking your life couldn’t get any better, until one day two pink lines stared back at you.
When you married Hank you didn’t expect to have any children, with him already having Justin and a grandson. This left you a little disheartened, but you would have married him under any conditions, even if that meant your dream of having kids would never come true. Whilst talking about your future together in the first few months of dating, the topic of kids had come up once or twice, with him stating he would love to have kids with you, but believing he couldn’t have any due to his age. But once you had told him you were pregnant, he was absolutely elated, even crying whilst confessing how much he loved and appreciated you. After a relatively difficult pregnancy with Hank being the most supportive, protective partner there could be, you gave birth to a gorgeous baby boy weighing in at 8 pounds, having his eye colour and your nose, a perfect combination of the both of you. For the first few years of your babies life, you spent your time staying at home looking after him, watching him grow up to look more and more like your husband each day. But finally, after his third birthday, you decided the unit was your calling and you wanted to rejoin your old team.
Things started off relatively normal, reuniting with the unit properly, finally becoming a team again. Adrenaline filled your veins once more, loving the thrill of arresting criminals and going on busts. The words ‘let's roll out’ sent sparks of serotonin throughout your body, loving being back after years of ‘calmness’ from child care. This new feeling caused you to get a little over-excited sometimes but nothing, in your opinion, that could be considered careless. However, if you asked Hank he would completely disagree. The man just wanted you to be safe at all times, not just for him but for your son as well. Things started heating up after a couple of weeks of you working there, him not wanting to address it initially as he knew you were so happy doing what you loved, but he was scared for your safety. He didn’t want a repeat of his last marriage, he adored you so much he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you were to get an injury or die. That was until one night, a bad day at the office caused him to snap, needing you to know how he felt about what you were doing.
Leaning against the counter in the kitchen at your shared home, you heard the door slam, knowing it was Hank, who had stayed behind in his office after a particularly nasty case.
“Hi Babe, did you get everything done that you wanted to?” You chirped, just happy that your husband was finally home.
“Y/N we need to talk,” you turned around to face him, your smile falling at his serious tone.
“Ok?”
“I understand you love being back in the unit but Y/N, we have a son now”
“What are you trying to say?” You replied, your tone turning sour, part of you knew what he was trying to say, but never in your mind did you think he would confront you about it. Why couldn’t he just be happy for you?
“I just think you’re being too reckless in the field,” he remained calm, just trying to get you to understand where he was coming from.
“Reckless? Are you fucking kidding me! I’ve spent three years looking after our kid and you can’t even allow me to have this?” You were furious by this point, you loved your job and had been away from it for a long time. Ok, maybe you were a little under cautious sometimes but not what he was suggesting!
“I'm just looking out for you, I can’t have you dying on me Y/N! You’re my wife for god’s sake I want you to be alive and safe!” He raised his voice, angry you couldn’t see what he was seeing.
“You know what fuck you, Hank!” You pushed past him, grabbing your keys and wallet on the way out, getting into your car to go anywhere but that house.
Driving around the city you were thinking of places to go, your parents, a hotel, another member of the units house? Finally deciding on Jay’s apartment you pulled into his buildings car park, checking your phone before going inside. Staring back at you were five missed calls and thirteen unread messages, all from the same person, the reason why you were outside someone else’s apartment and not your own home. Getting out of your car you walked towards the entrance of the apartment building, mulling over whether you should message Hank back. Deciding against it, you lowered your phone, not even wanting to think about it for the time being. Suddenly someone grabbed you by the waist, yanking you towards them, placing a foreign material over your mouth. You screamed, praying someone would hear your cries as you kicked your legs out and at the perpetrator as they dragged you backwards. More hands reached out to pull you into a car, sobbing you regretted what happened earlier, wishing you would have just stayed home. Finally, as your vision blurred, you hoped the unit would find you before it was too late.
Waking up in a cold room, you tried to pull your arm towards your chest, meeting resistance in the form of metal chains attached above your head. You groggily looked around, using your detective skills to assess the situation you were in, noting nothing in the cold, concrete room except yourself and a metal frame chair placed in front of you. Confused at the situation, you thought about what you had done, was it a person you had arrested? Or someone who had a vendetta against you? That you didn’t know, you couldn’t comprehend anything at the moment, your head pounding not allowing you to think clearly. You remembered being in the apartment complex’s car park after an argument but other than that everything was hazy. Thinking as hard as you could, your thoughts were interrupted as one of the offenders entered the room. He sat at the chair, sharpening his knife, a sadistic smirk played on his face.
“You know why you’re here?” Raking your brain you couldn’t think of anyone you had pissed off enough for them to go to these extremes.
“No,” you replied not wanting to antagonise him in any way.
“Your killer of a husband murdered my boy in broad daylight and no one, NO ONE, ever did anything about it!”
“That wasn’t me, please just let me go, you can talk it out with my husband in the proper ways!” You pleaded, knowing that him showing you his face didn’t bode well for your chances of survival.
“YOU SIGNED UP FOR THIS THE DAY YOU MARRIED THAT MURDERER!” He shouted out, punching you in the stomach, taking his anger out on you anyways possible.
“He’ll find us, and when he does he’ll kill you too,” you spat knowing that you couldn’t make anything worse. In response he threw a series of punches at your face, grabbing his knife holding it to your throat. Smirking he replied,
“You think he really cares about you?”
“WELL, WHERE IS SHE?” Hank was absolutely seething. Shouting at anyone who came to talk to him, both members of his unit and uniformed officers alike. He couldn’t lose her, besides his son, she was his whole life, not even wanting to picture a world where she wasn’t with him. He had to prepare for the worst, he knew that, but he couldn’t do it without a tear coming to his eye. Why her? Why couldn’t they just have taken him instead? He was who they wanted, not her, so why couldn't they just have fucking take him?! The team all sat watching, waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would come out and demand answers, ones they didn’t have at the moment. They owed their boss, cashing in multiple favours with him throughout their time in intelligence, and they knew this was the only thing Voight would ever ask for in return. And Y/N, you had worked with them for years, not just being colleagues but developing a strong friendship that would last years to come, that’s if they could find you in time. Exiting his office, the unit turned to their boss as he spoke.
“I want everyone giving their all to this case, this is my wife we’re talking about, not just some faceless victim, Y/N, your friend, your colleague, and we are going to find her. No matter what it takes, am I clear?” Each detective replied with a ‘yes sarge' and getting to work, investigating every lead that they could. A couple of hours later the team had found the suspects, located pod footage from the time you were kidnapped and worked out a motive, everything seemed like was going well, except for the fact they still didn’t have a location. Another hour passed and still no location, Hank getting more and more agitated by the second, with his anger about to boil over, all with the push of a button, or a certain detective. Being the bearer of bad news, the team pushed Ruzek to play the devils advocate to tell the Sergeant they had come up empty.
“Hey Sarge, we’ve got nothing else, every lead we’ve got is coming up dry”
“NOTHING! YOU’VE GOT NOTHING? SHE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL WE KNOW AND YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’VE GOT NOTHING?” Hank boomed scared that his precious wife, who had done nothing to deserve this, could be being tortured or even worse dead.
“Hank, Hank” Olinsky stepped in, pushing his distraught friend back in his office, knowing Adam had done nothing wrong, instead just an outlet for his long term friends anger.
“It's ok, she’s gonna be fine” Alvin reassured him, knowing him exploding with emotions would do nothing to help his missing wife. Finally, an hour later, the team got a breakthrough courtesy of a CI of Dawson's, gearing up and rolling out as quickly as possible much to Hank’s delight.
Raising your head, you spat at the man in front of you, teasing him even more, threatening him to do his worst. He had beat you, cut you, degraded you, trying to get your spirit to break. Although you knew Hank would come to find you, you were starting to crack, the pain overwhelming to the point where you couldn’t cope anymore, a pain you wouldn’t wish on anyone. You were losing faith rapidly, expecting your unit to have already come by now, but where were they? Maybe they didn’t actually care about you? Lowering your head after a series of more beatings, you’d had enough.
“Please stop, please, I’ll do whatever you want, just please stop!” You cried finally giving into the man.
“I want you to pay for what your husband has done to my family, pay with your life,” he pulled a gun from the waistband of his trousers, pointing straight at the middle of your forehead. You had lived your life as much as you could, finding the love of your life, having a son and restoring your faith in the universe, well up until now. Closing your eyes you prepared yourself for the bullet, but when the loud shot came, it wasn’t from a gun but instead the door flying off its hinges.
“DROP THE WEAPON!” Someone shouted, someone that sounded weirdly familiar to your husband.
“DROP IT,” they repeated before you heard a clatter on the ground and a flurry of movement. Suddenly someone grabbed your face, nervously speaking your name. Opening your eyes, you looked up, staring straight into the eyes of your husband, smiling briefly before a cloud of darkness washed over you.
Waking up, the first thing you noticed with the constant beeping of a machine, then the warm feeling of a hand in yours. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking sluggishly adjusting to the harsh light, before focusing on the figure beside you.
“Hank?” You croaked, sounding like death itself but glad you were alive and facing your husband once more.
“Baby! Thank god you’re alive, you got me so worried there,” you smiled, thanking whatever god was out there for a second chance so you could spend the rest of your life with your husband and child.
“I-i missed you, Hank”
“I know Baby, I know I missed you too.”
“I’m sorry for walking out on you, why couldn’t I have just stayed there and listened to you? Talked it out properly”
“No don’t apologise, this was all my fault, you loved what you were doing and I was trying to take that away from you because of my own selfish wants.” You loved the man beside you unconditionally and although you were mad in the moment, this whole situation made you realise that nothing he could do could make you love him any less.
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